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A Son of 


„v Ishmael 

Mrs. L. T. Meade 


Author of 

“ The Medicine Lady,” 

“ Dr. Rumsey’s Patient,” 

“A Soldier of Fortune,” etc., etc. ^ 



ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. BURNHAH SHUTE 


NEW AMSTERDAM BOOK COMPANY 


'l66 FIFTH AVENUE 


NEW YORK 




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“ I die before my work is completed,” he said ; “ but leave it to you.” 

— Frontispiece. 


A SON OF ISHMAEL 


n novel 


BY 

♦ L T. MEADE 

AUTHOR OF “THE MEDIC^E UADY,” “HEART OP GOED,” 

“nobody’s neighbor,” etc. 



NEW YORK 

NEW AMSTERDAM BOOK COMPANY 

156 FIFTH AVENUE 


Eondon— F. V. WHITE & CO. 









1 


Copyright, 1896, 
by 

New Amsterdam Book CoMPANisr 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

I. — Dr. Follett’s Secret • • . i 

II. — His Willing Bride ... 15 

III. — The Packet on the Upper Shelf . 19 

IV. — At the Bungalow .... 30 

V. — A Wild Wooer 37 

VI. — Long John 45 

VII. — The Wedding Night .... 54 

VIII. — At the Opera House ... 60 

IX. — The Rose-Coloured Bedroom and 

THE New Maid .... 70 

X. — The Boy on the Hearth . . 78 

XL — The Queen Anne Wing and Garden 87 
XII. — Silver 95 

XIII. — Long John 104 

XIV. — The Butler's Pantry . • • 108 

XV. — Leah 12 1 

XVI. — The Lady in the Wood . . 130 

XVII. — Crossley 139 

XVIII. — The Torn Letter and the Mark 147 

. 156 


XIX. — The Silver School 


fi 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP. 

XX. — A Black Diamond • , 

XXL — The Rats in the Queen Anne Wing 
XXII. — The Man with the Mark . 

XXIII. — Dame Rowton 

XXIV. — The Black Diamond Again 

XXV. — Kidnapped 

XXVI.— A “Plant” 

XXVII. — Invisible Ink . . . • 

XXVIII.— Hester 

XXIX. — “Call Me Dawson” 

XXX. — Mrs. Larkins . . • • 

XXXI. — A Summons 

XXXII. — A Red Track .... 
XXXIII.— “If Not, Lie to Him” . 

XXXIV.— A Toast 

XXXV.— Wages 

XXXVL — The Darkness Before the Dawn 


PAGE 

170 

174 

184 

192 

200 

208 

214 

225 

236 

242 

250 

260 

266 

277 

290 

295 

306 


A SON OF ISHMAEL 


CHAPTER I. 

DR. FOLLETT’s secret 

Not many years ago in the neighbourhood of Andover 
stood a lonely house, which went by the name of the 
Grange. It was enclosed in walled-in gardens, and 
people who passed by on the high road saw nothing of 
it. The house itself was squarely built — its windows 
were small, with old-fashioned latticed panes, and its 
thick walls were closely covered with ivy and other 
creepers of the hardy species. 

It was a lonely place, standing solitary and bleak all 
the year round, its sole inhabitants being an old man, 
a young girl, and one servant. 

These three inhabited a corner of the old house, 
living very sparsely and frugally, doing without warmth 
and comfort in winter and without all the gay things 
of life in summer. The grounds round the Grange 
had gone to rack and ruin ; the huge kitchen garden 
was full of weeds, and the lawn in front of the house 
had been attended to by no gardener since Dr. Follett 
and his daughter, Nancy, took possession of the place 
six years ago. 

People who sav^ them at church on Sunday said that 

I 


2 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Nancy Follett was a handsome girl; she had bright 
grey eyes, good features, and quantities of beautiful 
hair; her face had strength about it, her lips were 
firmly moulded; she had a very upright and erect 
carriage, but she looked like a girl who lived under a 
shadow, and during the six years of her residence at 
the Grange she made but one acquaintance. 

The neighbours would have been kind to her if she 
had let them, but Dr. Follett received no visitors, and 
strictly forbade his daughter to make friends for 
herself in the neighbourhood of her dismal home. 
How she got to know Adrian Rowton was a mystery ; 
how he obtained a footing in the dismal old house was 
the wonder of the country side. But then Rowton was 
a man who seemed to do what he liked wherever he 
went. He saw Nance one day in church, observed the 
turn of her head, noticed the exquisite curves of her 
soft neck and throat, commented with a quickening of 
his heart’s pulses on the lovely shades of her hair, 
determined to get a nearer view of her, met her by 
accident the next morning, spoke to her, caught the 
glint of her bright eyes, and fell madly in love with 
her on the spot. 

Adrian Rowton had never yet seen any reason to 
check his inclinations, whatever they might be. Nancy 
Follett’s father was an ogre, but Rowton was clever 
enough quickly to gain an entrance into the deserted 
old house. He made love to the father for the sake of 
the daughter, and to the surprise of everyone in the 
place, was soon allowed to visit at the Grange as often 
as he liked. 


DR. FOLLETT’S SECRET. 


3 


It was just Rowton’s luck, said other young men who 
also admired pretty Nancy Follett, but then they looked 
at one another and wondered what they meant, for if 
people knew nothing of Dr. Follett and his daughter, 
they knew still less of Adrian Rowton. He rented a 
little shooting lodge about half a mile away from the 
Grange. It was called the Bungalow, and would have 
been to most men a singularly unattractive place. The 
house was tumbledown and out of repair, and Rowton 
took no pains to keep the grounds in order. 

He arrived at the Bungalow two years before this 
story opens, accompanied by a man-servant, a rough- 
looking fellow with a bull-dog head and a singularly 
unprepossessing face ; also by several dogs, and a large 
supply of guns and ammunition. Rowton had taken 
the shooting of a large neighbouring estate and in the 
autumn he occupied himself with his favourite pastime 
as long as daylight permitted. When the shotting 
season was over he generally shut up the Bungalow and 
disappeared, returning, however, any day or night quite 
unexpectedly and for no apparent reason. He supplied 
Nancy Follett with plenty of game, but what he did with 
the rest he never told to anyone. He used to drive 
about the country on a high dog-cart, and one day 
brought two or three thoroughbred horses with him from 
London. 

People talked a good deal about him, for he had an 
air of mystery which tantalised curiosity. He was tall, 
well set up, and strikingly handsome — too dark, perhaps, 
for the conventional Englishman, but so plucky, such a 
good sportsman, and withal so gay and bright when he 


4 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


pleased, that against his own inclination and against the 
secret prejudice of most of the neighbours, he was 
quickly invited to the best houses in the place, and was, 
in short, a universal favourite. 

On a certain night towards the end of a particularly 
tempestuous November, Rowton was riding home from 
Andover. He was a reckless horseman, and always 
rode mercilessly. The beast on which he was sitting 
this special night was only half broken in. Suddenly 
he heard himself shouted to by an angry voice. 

“ Hullo ! take care, can’t you ; do you want to ride 
right through my gig ? ” 

Adrian pulled up his horse fiercely, the animal 
reared, he sprang from its back and exclaimed with a 
hearty voice: 

“ A thousand pardons ; I never saw you. Dr. Read.” 

Dr. Read, who was also standing by his horse, faced 
the young man with a smile. 

“ You nearly rode into me,” he said. “ You ought 
not to give reins to an animal of that sort on a dark 
night.” 

“I am extremely sorry, but you had no lamp to 
your carriage. I certainly did not expect to meet 
anyone on this rough bit of road. What is the matter, 
doctor ? What patient has called you out such a night 
as this ? ” 

“I am just returning from the Grange,” said Dr 
Read ; “ have you not heard ? ” 

“Heard what? — is anyone ill there? — surely not 
Miss Nancy I” 

“Bless you, Nancy Follett is well enough, unless 


DR. Jb'OLLETT’S SECRET. 


5 


indeed, poor child, she dies of her sorrows. What an 
old ruffian that father of hers is? Well, he is dying 
now : his grief is evidently bringing him to his grave. 
By the way, talking of mysteries, I believe I have got 
a clue to the shadow which hangs over the old 
Grange.” 

“ And what is that ? ” asked Rowton, a tone of 
interest coming into his voice. 

“ Why, they say that this old man. Dr. Follett, is no 
other than the well-known physician of the name who 
performed such wonderful cures in Harley Street some 
years back — you must have heard of the great Dr. 
Follett.” 

“ Can’t say that I have,” answered Rowton. 

“ Well, well,” said Dr. Read testily, “ I thought all 
the world knew of him. I never for an instant sus- 
pected that this cross-grained old fellow could be he, 
but I believe it is a fact. It seems that the man 
had an awful shock : his only son was mysteriously 
murdered. Of course there may not be a word of truth 
in it, but something must have happened — did you 
speak, sir ? ” 

Rowton had said “ Good God ” under his breath. 
He was quite quiet now. 

“I think your informant must be mistaken,” he 
said after a pause. “ I know the Folletts very well, 
and neither father nor daughter have ever alluded to a 
murdered son or brother— murdered 1 Good Heavens ! 
Nancy Follett would surely have told me cf a tragedy 
of that sort.” 

“ Well,” said Dr. Read, “ there is some shadow over 


6 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


those two lives, and the shadow is killing the old man 
Poor fellow, his days are numbered ; it is only a ques 
tion of hours.” 

“ I am surprised, shocked, and sorry,” said Rowton. 
“ I was at the Grange only a week back and then Dr. 
Follett looked as well as ever.”- 

“ As ill, you mean,” said the doctor. “ He has been 
breaking up fast for the last six months. The mystery, 
or shadow, or whatever it is, is killing him, for the 
man is not really old. Have you ever noticed the 
extraordinary gloom on his face ? ” 

“Yes, and no,” replied Ronton. “I thought him a 
queer old card, but to be frank with you, I don’t go to 
the Grange to study old Dr. Follett.” 

The moon shone out at this moment, and Dr. Read 
favoured the bold outline of the young man who stood 
by his side with a keen glance. 

“ That girl is as fine a creature as ever breathed,” he 
said with apparent inconsequence; “take care, young 
sir, that you do not do her an injury ; but now I must 
be off.' Follett is dying because there is a shadow over 
him and the shadow is killing him. Well, I must not 
stay here any longer. Good night to you, Mr. Rowton.” 

“ One moment before you go, doctor. Is Miss 
Nancy all alone ? ” 

“No, I sent in a nurse this morning. Good-night, I 
must not stay here any longer.” 

The doctor got back into his gig and drove away, 
and Rowton stood for a brief moment at his horse’s 
head. He was a man of quick action at all times. 

“ Not home just at present. Satyr,” he said to the 


DR. FOLLETT’S SECRET. 


7 


horse ; ** here, turn your head to the left. Sol ho ! old 
boy, easy, easy.” 

A moment later horse and rider were flying almost 
on the wings of the wind in the direction of the 
Grange. 

There was a long rambling avenue under dark lime 
trees up to the old house. Rowton did not wait to 
open the gates. Setting spurs to his horse the animal 
quickly leapt these obstacles, and then at full speed 
galloped up the avenue. When the pair approached 
the house Rowton pulled up abruptly, and springing 
from his steed led him softly over the grass. A great 
cedar tree stood in the middle of the desolate lawn. 
Taking a leather strap from his pocket, Rowton tied 
his horse to a branch of this tree, and then stepping 
quickly up to one of the windows he began to whistle, 
in gay clear notes, the well-known strains of “ Garry 
Owen.” His whistle rang out joyfully; he had just 
completed the melody and was going to begin it a second 
time, when a noise at a little distance caused him to 
turn his head; a faint light proceeded from an open 
door, and a girl’s slender figure was seen standing on 
the steps. 

Rowton made a stride forward, and the next 
moment had clasped Nancy Follett to his heart. 

“ This is good,” he said. “ I have hungered for a 
kiss. What is the matter, sweetheart? you tremble as 
though you were an aspen leaf.” 

“Because I am so glad to see you,” she replied. 
“ But how did you know ? What brought you here at 
this hour ? ” 


8 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ By good luck, I met Dr. Read,” exclaimed Rowton ; 
“he told me of your trouble. There, sweetheart, you 
need not tremble ; I am here to shelter you.” 

“ But you don’t know everything, Adrian,” she said 
in a sort of choking whisper. “Things have changed 
since I saw you last.” 

“You need not tell me that, I know all about it,” he 
replied. “Your father is dying and you are miserable 
— but things must be better when I am with you. Let 
us come indoors ; you will catch your death of cold if 
you stay out in an awful gale of this sort, besides, we 
can scarcely hear our own voices ; come, I suppose you 
have some sort of fire in that big, desolate dining-room.” 

“ Just a spark,” she answered, with a smile, which she 
quickly repressed. “You seem to lift a weight off my 
heart,” she continued. “ It is strength and real gladness 
to have you close to me; but, Adrian, I cannot stay 
with you ; he is dying — the doctor says he will not last 
till morning.” 

While she was speaking, Nancy turned and, followed 
by Rowton, entered the great hall of the almost empty 
mansion. 

“ Why, it is as dark as pitch,” exclaimed the young 
man, “ what a state of things ; have you no candles, no 
lamps, nothing to show a gleam of light on an awful 
night of this sort ? ” 

“ I’ll fetch a candle,” she answered. She ran across the 
hall, opened the door of a sitting room some, little 
distance away, and returned in a moment, holding a 
lighted candle high above her head. 

“The fire is out in the dining-room,” she said with 


DR. FOLLETT'S SECRET. 


9 


another shiver, “ but we had better go there ; I can talk 
to you better there, and I have something to say.” 

“ You don’t utter a word until you have a good fire to 
say it by,” replied Rowton. “ This sort of thing is in- 
tolerable. You are going to be my wife, you know, 
Nance, so you have to obey me, whether your father 
wishes it or not. Here, give me the candle ; why, your 
poor little hand shakes, you would drop it in another 
moment.” 

He took the light out of the girl’s trembling hands, 
and holding it in such a manner that he could see her 
face, gazed long and earnestly into it. It was a face of 
great spirit and beauty. The features were straight and 
delicate in outline, the brows perfectly black and deli- 
cately marked, the eyes large and of a lovely shade of 
grey, the golden hair looked like a tangled web of many 
lights. But now the girl’s complexion was pinched and 
blue with cold, and the lovely eyes had red rims round 
them. 

“ Come, let us light a big fire,” said Rowton. “ I’ll 
soon set it going ; here are h gs of wood and lumps of 
coal; fetch me an old newspaper, Nancy. Now we’ll 
set to work.” 

He dropped on his knees as he spoke, used his great 
hands deftly, and in a moment or two a huge fire was 
roaring merrily up the old chimney. - 

“There now, that’s better,” he said. “You shall 
warm yourself — you shall get back your delicate com- 
plexion. Why, my wild bird, you wanted me sorely. 
Give me your hand — here, let me warm it. Sit on my 
knee close to this blaze ; it will tingle right through you. 


10 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Whisper one word to me, sweetheart ; when did you last 
have a right, good, comforting meal ? ” 

“ Never mind about that, Adrian ; how can I eat when 

my poor father is dying ? I love him, although ” 

“ Although he turned your life into a hell,” interrupted 
the young man fiercely. 

“ That is true,” she replied ; “ but never mind that 
now — he has gone through fearful sorrow, and I am 
heart and soul with him in everything.” 

“Well, dearest, he is your father and one cannot 
account for the feelings of affectionate girls like yourself. 
Thank heaven ! I never had home ties — I cannot re- 
member my father — my mother died when I was an 
infant — I was brought up in, the roughest imaginable 
school. Yes, the school of life was hard on me, and it 
has turned me out a pretty rough specimen ; a rough 
diamond, eh ! sweet Nancy ? ” 

“ Not to me,” she answered with sudden tenderness. 
“ To me you are the best, the noblest of men ; why will 
you run yourself down ? ” 

“I won’t again,” he answered. “Now let us to 
business. Have you told your father yet that you have 
promised to be my wife ? ” 

“Yes,” she replied. 

“ Why do you say ‘ yes ’ in that dismal way ? Is he 
not glad ? Will he not welcome me as a son-in-law after 
his own heart ? A little talk will reassure him on many 
subjects. When can I have it ? ” 

“ Never, I fear, Adrian ; he is too ill.” 

“ Well, then, I take you without his leave.” 

“That’s just it,” replied Nance, speaking with hesita- 


DR. FOLLETT’S SECRET. 


11 


tion and distress. “ You know, Adrian, how he began 
by taking a wonderful fancy to you. During all the six 
years of our residence in this dismal old Grange you are 
the only stranger who has set foot across our threshold. 
Father liked you to come — he liked to talk to you — he 
liked to talk of you when you went away. It comforted 
me immeasurably to feel that you and father suited each 
other. When I saw that you loved me I was more glad 
than I can say, to feel assured on the point of father 
also being tolerant to you. Well, things have changed. 
The dreadful change took place after your last visit. 
When you were gone, when you shut the hall- door 
behind you, I found father in a state of strange and 
nervous excitement. He was pacing up and down the 
room, clasping and unclasping his hands and muttering 
to himself. I really had not the least idea what it all 
meant. He kept saying under his breath : ‘ Suspected 
— yes, suspected — there is a likeness — there is a possi- 
bility of my search being terminated.* Oh, he has a 
secret, Adrian, but I don’t want to go into that now^ 
and I thought his poor brain was turned and that he was 
off his head, and I went to him quite tenderly and 
touched him on his arm, and said, ‘Sit down, calm 
yourself.* *’ 

“ ‘ I cannot,* he said, shaking me off, * my heart is on 
fire and I am nearly mad. That man — that man — and 
I harboured him here.* ** 

“ ‘What man ? * I asked in astonishment. 

“ ‘ Rowton,* he said, ‘ Adrian Rowton ; I have har- 
boured him here and made a friend of him ! Ah, but 
I shall track him down yet.* 


12 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I felt myself turning quite faint with astonishment 
and an unaccountable sense of terror. 

“ ‘ Father/ I said, ‘ you must be mad.^ 

“ ‘ No,’ he answered, ‘ not mad, but my suspicions are 
aroused. Good heaven ! that I should have harboured 
that man here ! ’ 

“ Then he pulled himself together, and tried to speak 
quietly. ‘Nancy,’ he said, ‘listen to me. My suspicions 
are aroused — the man who calls himself Adrian Rowton 
is never to come here again.’ 

“ ‘You cannot mean it,’ I said. 

“ ‘ I can and do,’ he replied. ‘ He is never to darken 
these doors again. Why, what is the matter ? ’ he ex- 
claimed, for I was trembling and the tears were running 
down my cheeks. 

“ ‘ It is only that I love Adrian Rowton better than 
anyone else in all the world,’ I replied. 

“ Then he stood up and I thought he was going to 
curse me, but he did not curse me, he cursed you 
instead. Oh ! he used awful, fearful words, and when 
they were over he fell down in a sort of fit. He got 
better after a little, and since then has not breathed your 
name. I do not know what he would do if he really 
knew that you and I were sitting here together.” 

Rowton’s face looked disturbed while Nancy was 
speaking. 

“Your father must have been off his head,” he said 
after a pause. 

“ No,” she replied, “ his brain is sane enough.” 

“ He must have been off his head for the time at 
least,” repeated her lover ; “ nothing else could account 


DR. FOLLETT’S SECRET. 


13 


for words so purposeless and wild. They are not worth 
your grave consideration ; do not fret, sweetheart, such 
words can make no difference to us. You don’t sup- 
pose that I will part from the most precious thing in all 
the world because an old man’s brain has suddenly given 
way.” 

“ If I really thought that,” said Nancy Follett. 

“ What else could it be ? but now don’t let us waste 
our time talking about it ; you are mine and I am yours 
if fifty old men choose to go mad on the subject. Now, 
I must see that my wild bird does not wear herself out ; 
you must have food, you shall have it ; is there no one 
helping you to nurse your father ? ” 

“ Yes, Dr. Read sent in a nurse to-day, she is up-stairs 
now ; not that there is much to do, he has lain since the 
afternoon in a state of stupor.” 

Nancy was standing now close to the fire ; the bright 
light fell all over her ; it brought a delicate colour into 
her cheeks and lit up her large eyes with a strange 
gleam. 

“You are the most beautiful creature in all the 
world,” said Rowton, with passion. 

She looked at him with a pained expression; her 
pretty dark brows were knit together. 

“ Don’t,” she said suddenly. “ I cannot listen to such 
words just now, they seem incongruous, they press on 
my heart and hurt me. Whatever you may choose to 
think of him, I love that old man upstairs ; his fate has 
been a cruel one, his grief is killing him ; his terrible, 
his awful grief is killing him, it is carrying him to his 
grave.” 


14 


A SON OF ISflMAEL. 


*‘I am a heartless brute not to sympathise with 
you, Nancy,*’ said Rowton. “What can be the grief, 
my dearest ? ” 

“Ah! that I dare not tell you, that is our fearful 
secret. Once I was a very happy girl, a thoughtless 
child. I wanted for nothing, I was gay as the sun- 
shine itself. Father was a successful man, he was 
quite a great doctor, he had one of the largest practices 
in Harley Street. Then came the trouble ; it was a 
blow sudden and awful, like a bolt from the blue. It 
crushed father and turned him into an old man, a man 
with only one bitter object in life. Everything else 
seemed to die in' him, everything but the one consuming 
passion. He sold the furniture in Harley Street, and 
we came here because the house was going for an old 
song, and father wanted us to live cheaply; we have 
lived here ever since that blow descended on our heads, 
and we have saved, and saved ; we have starved our-' 
selves, we have lain cold at night, we have wanted the 
common comforts of the most ordinary existence, all for 
one terrible purpose.” 

“ You certainly are a mysterious pair,” said Rowton 
with a laugh which echoed painfully in the old room. 
“Just whisper to me what the purpose was, Nance.” 

She hesitated for a moment, then bending forward 
whispered a single word in his ear. 

His ruddy, dark face changed colour when she spoke, 
for quite a moment he was silent. 

“Your father has made a mistake,” he said; then 
gravely, “ such a purpose turns round and crushes the 
man who holds it in his grasp. His own fell purpose 


HIS WILLING BRIDE. 


15 


will kill your father. Y ou must drop it from your life, 
Nancy. Your little sunshiny face was never meant for 
shadow or sorrow; you have lived too long in the 
gloom ; turn now to the sunshine of our mutual love.” 

“ Oh ! ” she answered, her voice coming out with a 
sort of strangled sob, “ I love you beyond words.” 

“To please me, try and put it into words, Nan,” he 
asked ; he gathered her close to his heart as he spoke. 

“ My love is wide as the world and deep as hell,” she 
replied; “stronger than death, and I think, I think, it 
could reach even to the heavens.” 

“And mine for you means madness if thwarted,” here- 
plied. “ There is not a man on earth can keep me from 
winning and holding you. There, you may go to the 
old man now, for I see you want to ; we’ll be man and 
wife before another moon is passed. I’ll come back in 
the morning to learn your news. Good-night.” 


CHAPTER II. 

HIS WILLING BRIDE. 

Rowton left the house, clinking his spurs as he did 
so ; Nancy listened to the sound he made with a beat- 
ing heart. 

“Suppose father hears,” she thought; but then she 
remembered that the old man was lying in a state of 
stupor, which, in all probability, would end in death. 
He could not, therefore, hear. So far she was safe. 
Why did her father hate her lover ? Why had he cursed 
the man whom she loved ? Well, he was dying, and 
dead men were powerless to interfere with those who 


16 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


lived. Rowton’s strong will would assuredly win the 
day, and Nancy would be his bride. 

“ His willing bride,” she murmured, clasping and 
unclasping her fingers. “ It is awful to think of marry- 
ing him against father’s wishes, but I know perfectly 
well that I shall do it. I am incapable of refusing him 
anything. I love him to desperation, and who can 
wonder ! I love my father, too, but not as I love 
Adrian.” 

“ Please go upstairs, Miss Follett? ” 

Nancy started and her face turned pale. 

“Yes, nurse, what is the matter?” she cried. 

“ Dr. Follett is awake and wishes to speak to you,” 
said the nurse. 

“ Awake ! then perhaps he is better ! ” said Nancy. 

“ No, miss, he will never be that, but he is conscious 
and he wants you without a moment’s delay. He asked 
me to leave you with him, so I am going to the kitchen 
to try and have a bit of supper. He is pretty sure to 
go off towards morning; there is little chance of this 
gleam of consciousness lasting long.” 

“I will go to him at once,” said Nancy. 

She cast one longing glance at the blazing fire, then 
turning, left the room. She ran up the rambling old 
stairs ; they were faintly lit at intervals by the struggling 
light of a watery moon. She reached the gallery 
which ran round the hall, paused before a creaking, 
badly hung door, and opening it, found herself in a 
lofty bedroom. The room was almost bare of furni- 
ture. A strip of carpet stood by the bedside, another 
was placed in front of the old fire-grate. With these 


HIS WILLING BRIDE. 


17 


two exceptions, the floor was bare. A deal table stood 
in one of the windows, on which a small looking-glass 
was placed, a chest of drawers of the commonest and 
coarsest make occupied a position beside one of the 
walls ; there were a couple of chairs, a very old fashioned 
washstand, a huge four -post bedstead made of black 
mahogany and hung with old velvet curtains — that was 
all. 

The dying man lay in the middle of the bed ; he was 
raised by several pillows and was breathing loud and 
heavily. His eyes, with dark shadows under them, were 
directed anxiously towards the door through which his 
young daughter entered. 

“ Come here, Nancy, be quick,” he said, speaking in 
an imperative voice and with wonderful strength for a 
dying man. 

She hurried across the room and stood by the bedside, 
looking down at him. 

“ The Almighty has been good to me and has given 
me sufficient strength to say what is necessary,” panted 
the doctor. “ I am dying.” 

Nancy opened her lips to speak, but no sound issued 
from them. 

“ I am dying,” said Dr. Follett again. “ You need 
not try to contradict me, Nance, I know what you 
would say. You have been a good girl, and you will, 
in the ordinary course of nature, miss me for a little ; 
you will also as naturally forget me after a short time. 
I have been a burden to you and have led you a weary 
life, but we have no time to go into that now. Death 
is in a hurry and I must do something before I go to 

9 


18 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


him, I have sent for you to get you to make me a 
promise.” 

Nancy began to tremble. Again she made an effort 
to spealc, but again failed ; her hands were tightly locked 
together and beads of sudden moisture stood on her 
forehead. Dr. Follett was gazing at her out of two 
sunken and fierce eyes. 

“ Y-'iu know what I allude to,” he said. “ I see the 
knowledge in your face; you know what has animated 
me and kept me alive during the last six years.” 

“Yes, I know,” she replied. 

“ I die before my work is completed,” he continued, 
“ but I leave it to you.” 

“ I cannot take up your work, father,” she answered. 

“ Don’t talk folly, child. You must take it up. You 
know what the object of my life has been. Your 
brother was murdered ; for six long years I have been 
searching for the man who took his life— I have been a 
hunter in pursuit of my prey. There is a man alive 
on this earth whom I must find, my grip must hold 
him, my revenge must reach him. I die without 
scenting my quarry, but you must follow where I leave 
off. There, my brain is clouded, I cannot think, not 
definitely, not clearly — a short time ago I had a sus- 
picion. I wish Crossley, the detective, were here, I 
could tell him. It seemed to me that I had got hold of 
a clue at last, but it has slipped from my fingers, from 
my memory ; I cannot recall it. I choke — this emotion 
is too much for me. Give me a dose of that medicine, 
quick.” 

Nancy turned to a table wh'ch stood near. She 


THE PACKET ON THE UPPER SHELF. 


19 


poured something from a bottle into a medicine glass 
and brought it to her father. She held the glass to his 
lips ; he drained the contents to the dregs. 

“ That is right,” he panted, “ that is good stuff, it 
warms the heart. I used to give medicine myself like 
that long ago ; there is chloroform in it, it is very com- 
forting. Come to my side, Nancy, let me hold your 
hand. Remember I am a dying man and the requests 
of the dying ought to be granted. You are to make 
me a promise. Your brother, Anthony, was murdered, 
you are to find the murderer, and to avenge his death ; 
you are to take up my life work, child. If you don’t I 
shall curse you.” 

“ Where you failed, how am I to succeed ? ” she 
answered. “ I won’t make that cruel promise.” 

“ If you don’t I’ll curse you,” replied the dying man, 
his glittering eyes looking full into hers. She shuddered 
and covered her face with her trembling hands. 

“ I think nothing at all of your squeamish womanly 
fears,” he said, with an awful sort of sneer. Sit down 
by me — I have everything planned out — listen.” 


CHAPTER III. 

THE PACKET ON THE UPPER SHELF. 

As Nancy seated herself on the edge of the bed, her 
face grew startlingly livid. 

“You cannot surely mean what you are saying, 
father,” she replied. 

“ I mean,” said Dr, Follett in a steady and strong 


z 


20 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


voice, “exactly what I say. I have failed to avenge 
your brother’s death; you must finish my work.” 

“I am sorry,” said Nancy. “I am sorry at an hour 
like this to have to refuse you anything, but I cannot do 
what you ask.” 

“ I will not die until you promise,” replied the doctor. 
“ For six years I have done all that man could do. I have 
not left a single stone unturned, I have not neglected the 
slightest clue, yet I have failed. The man who mur- 
dered Anthony has still to be found. If he walks this 
earth he shall be found. I die, but you must find 
him.” 

“You forget that I am a girl,” said Nancy; “no girl 
could undertake work of this kind.” 

“ Pooh ! what does sex matter ? ” replied the doctor. 
“ Does the fact of your being a girl alter love ? Did 
not you love the dead boy ? I die. It is the will of 
the Almighty to take me away before my work is accom- 
plished ; but I leave behind me a child, my lineal des- 
cendant, the loving playmate of the murdered boy, the 
girl into whose ears he whispered his young secrets, the 
girl who kissed his young lips. This girl is no weakling, 
she can take up my work ; she shall. I insist, I command, 
I will listen to no silly cowardly entreaties. Do you 
hear me, Nancy? I die before another sun rises, but 
my unfinished work drops on to your shoulders ; you 
dare not refuse me— do you hear what I am saying ? 
You dare not.” 

“The task you set me will kill me, father. I am 
dreadfully tired already. I am utterly weary of the 
misery of my life.” 


THE PACKET ON THE UPPER SHELF. 


21 


“Kneel down, child,” said the doctor. His voice 
changed from its hard and ringing note ; it grew all of 
a sudden soft, beseeching, tender. 

“You have a woman’s heart and a woman’s spirit,” 
he said, touching one of the slim young hands and 
stroking it as he spoke ; “ but you have more than that, 
you have a man’s courage. I have seen that courage 
shine in your eyes in more ihan one sudden emergency ; 
the day the blow fell I saw it. I have seen it since, when 
you have denied yourself and turned your back on the 
good things of youth, and followed me, step by step, 
uncomplainingly, up the narrow path of self-sacrifice 
and self-denial. You can do it — you shall. Think of 
Anthony, think for a moment of the old times.” 

“ Yes, I remember the old times,” replied Nancy. 
She began to sob as she spoke. 

“ That is right, child, cry away. I have touched 
your heart. When I touch a heart like yours courage 
soon re-animates it ; you will not be a coward, you will 
not allow your brother’s blood to cry from the ground 
for vengeance; think of the old times, think of your 
mother, think of the old, gay, happy life.” 

“ Yes, yes, I remember it,” said the girl ; “but it is all 
past and over.” She wept silently, bowing her head 
until it almost' touched the bedclothes. 

“ I see the old times as I lie here,” said Dr. Follett. 
A meditative, gentle look stole the anxiety and some of 
the age out of his face. “Yes,” he continued, speaking 
in a dreamy tone, “ the past rises before me. I see a 
picture. There are three people in the picture, Anthony, 
your mother, you. Our house is full of sunshine. 


22 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Your mother is proud of her children, and I am 
proud of your mother and of the children. The picture 
is very vivid, it is almost like a vision, it fills the whole 
of my gaze. I see the room where we sit in the evening. 
I see people flitting about. I see our morning-room with 
the sunshine on it ; there is your mother's gentle face, 
there is Anthony like a young eagle, all romance, chivalry 
— a daring boy, a splendid lad. I see you full of courage, 
but pretty, soft, with hair like the sun. Yes, it is a 
lovely picture ; it rests me, it supports me. Ah, but it 
is changing — your mother’s place is empty, she no 
longer sits by the fire, or takes the head of the table. 
She has gone. I am in one sense alone, but still I live, 
for Anthony lives, and you live, and I work for you, and 
my profession abounds with interest and it absorbs me. 
Here is another picture coming on fast. I see my con- 
sulting-room ; here come the patients ; I give them five 
minutes each, and I drop the golden sovereigns into my 
drawer, fast, faster and faster. I am a very successful 
doctor. You remember all about my success, don’t you?” 

“Yes, yes, you were grand, magnificent in those days,” 
said Nancy. She had raised her head now; her tears 
had dried on her cheeks. 

“ Yes, as you say, I was magnificent,” repeated the old 
man, “but don’t interrupt me; I still see the picture. 
Patients think a lot of me — I am spoken well of by my 
colleagues, lam consulted by local practitioners. People 
come from distant lands to see me and to get my opinion. 
My opinion is golden. I feel myself something like a 
god ; I can dispense life, I can issue the dread fiat of 
death. Here is a patient who comes from China. 411 


THE PACKET ON THE UPPER SHELF. 


23 


the long way from the flowery land the wretched man 
has come to consult me. I seem to see the long 
voyage and the despair at the man’s heart, and now I 
behold the hope which animates him. He has a tumour, 
horrible, unsightly, a ghastly thing, a protuberance from 
the very home of Satan himself, but I remove it by my 
knife and by my skill, and the man recovers. Look at 
him I He is blessing me, and he is offering me the 
half of all his worldly possessions. Oh ! how he has 
suffered, but I have relieved him. I have lifted him 
from hell to paradise. Yes, I am a great doctor. How 
beautiful, how absorbingly interesting is this picture of 
the golden past 1 ” 

Dr. Follett’s voice dropped — the animation went out 
of it. 

“ There, child, all the pictures have faded,” he said. 
“ The curtain has dropped — the old life is shut away by 
a door which can never be opened, for Anthony is dead. 
Let me weep for him, Nancy — I will; I must. Tears 
come slowly to the dying, but they rise in my eyes now 
when I remember Anthony. He is dead — he was 
miHrdered — he lies in his grave, but his murderer still 
sees the sunshine and feels the sweet breath of life — 
his murderer lives.” 

“ But you are not to blame for that,” said Nancy ; “ no 
man could do more than you have done. When you see 
Anthony again in the strange world to which you are 
hurrying you will tell him all, and ” 

“I shall see him again,” said Dr. Follett, “ and when 
I see him I will tell him that I have dropped my mantle 
on to you ; you are to continue my work.V 


24 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Nancy’s face grew so white that it looked almost like 
the face of one who had died ; her lips slightly parted, 
her eyes, terror growing in them, became fixed on her 
father’s face. 

“ I see another picture,” he said again suddenly. “ 1 
see the morning when Anthony went to Paris — to gay 
Paris, where he lost his life. He enters the room. How 
light is his laugh and how his eyes sparkle ! He has said 
‘ farewell,’ he has gone. Wait a while — another picture 
is rising in that dark part of the room. Hold me, 
Nancy, my child, or I shall fall. I must look at it, but 
it horrifies me, it chills my blood. Do you see the 
man who has come into the room? His name is 
Eustace Moore.” 

“ Oh ! don’t let us recall that dreadful scene, father,” 
interrupted Nancy. 

“ I must, child. Don’t interrupt me, let me go on 
describing the picture. Eustace Moore has come into 
the room. He is Anthony’s friend. He tells his awful 
tale. Cannot you hear what he says ? ” 

“ No, dear father, I hear nothing. You are torturing 
yourself with all these dreadful memories ; they are ex- 
citing you too much ; it is dreadfully bad for you to talk 
as you do.” 

“ Nothing is bad for me now. I am past the good or 
the bad of life. I stand on its threshold. Let me 
describe the picture. I hear Eustace Moore speaking. 
These are his words : 

“ *I have brought you terrible news, doctor. I cannot 
mince matters, nor break the blow in any way. Your 
son is dead ! ’ 


THE PACKET ON THE UPPER SHELF. 


26 


“ ‘ Go on,’ I answer. I stagger, but I don’t fall ; * go 
on, hurry, tell me everything.’ 

“‘Your son was murdered at a caf^ in Paris,’ con- 
tinues Moore. ‘The cause of ihe murder is an absolute 
mystery. A stranger had a quarrel with him; there 
were hurried words, followed by blows and pistol shots 
— the boy was shot clean through the heart. My 
address was found in his pccket; someone rushed to 
my flat, not far away, and I was on the scene in less 
than half an hour. Anthony was lying dead on a 
table in an inner room of the cafd. The man who had 
quarrelled with him and who had murdered him was 
known by the name of Hubert Lefroy. As I was enter- 
ing the caf^, I saw a tall man rushing by in con- 
siderable agitation ; he wore no hat, and he flew 
quickly past me. I observed his strange face, and a 
mark — the mark of a death’s head and cross-bones 
tattooed on the upper lip. Knowing nothing de- 
finitely at the moment, I did not stop to arrest his 
flight. My firm belief is that he is the murderer. 
Every possible search nas been made since, but not 
a trace of him has peen neard of. The man was 
tall, dark and strong. By tne mark on his lip we 
ought to know him again — I should recognise his face 
were I to see him.’ 

“Those were the exact words spoken by Eustace 
Moore, Nancy. I know them, as you perceive, by 
heart — they are, indeed, graven on my heart. The 
picture fades. Moore’s voice is silent. He has died 
since then. We do not know a single living person 
who has seen that assassin, who sent my only son to an 


26 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


early grave. For six long years we have searched for 
him — you, my child, know how well.” 

“Yes, father,” answered Nancy, “ I do know.” 

“ We have spent all our money,” continued the doctor, 
“ we have employed the very best detectives — we have 
done all that human beings could do. I have lived on 
the hope that the day would come when I should see 
that wretch arrested, tried, hanged by the neck until he 
died. My hope is fading into the night. I have not 
found the murderer. You will find him, Nancy — you 
will carry on my work.” 

“ I hate the man,” said Nancy slowly and speaking 
with intense fervour. “ When you recall that dreadful 
picture, I hate the man who murdered my brother as 
much as you do. I dream of him also night after 
night, and my hate is so deep that nothing in all the 
world can extinguish it ; but how am I to carry on this 
awful search ? Where you failed, how am I to 
succeed ? ” 

“You must go on employing Crossley, the detective ; 
you must use your woman’s wit — you must never 
slacken your zeal.” 

“ Oh ! father, the thought is too horrible ; let me 
drop it.” 

“ Never, child ; I feel that I could haunt you if you 
did not do it. Find the man who killed Anthony; 
promise to carry on my work, or I curse you before I 
die. It will be an awful thing for you to live undei 
your dying father’s curse.” 

I am superstitious — you have made me super- 
stitious,” answered Nancy; “my nerves are not as 


THE PACKET ON THE UPPER SHELF. 27 

Strong as the nerves of girls who have lived happier 
lives ; I do not believe I could live under your curse.” 

“You could not, it would wither you up, so awful 
would be its quality ; you would die or go mad.” 

“ I could not bear it,” said Nancy, again shuddering 
as she spoke. 

“ Then take my blessing instead, do my work, take up 
the burden bravely.” 

“But is there any chance of my succeeding?” she 
answered, a note of wavering coming into her voice. 
“If you have failed to find Anthony’s murderer, how 
is it possible for me to succeed? All your savings 
have gone to detectives. All the money you earned 
when you were rich and famous has vanished. We 
have stinted ourselves and starved ourselves, and 
brooded over this awful thing until we have scarcely 
been like human beings. Can you not leave revenge to 
Heaven ? Why should you ruin my young life ? ” 

“ Because I will have revenge,” said the dying man, 
“because I lived for it and will die for it. Swear, 
child — your idle words are only like pin pricks to 
me. Swear to carry on my life’s purpose or I curse 
you.” 

Nancy groaned and covered her white face. 

“ I won’t be denied,” said Dr. Follett, catching hold 
of her arm and trying to pull one of her hands away. 

“What have I done to be punished in this awful 
way ? ” said the girl. 

“ Swear,” repeated the doctor. 

“ I won’t swear,” she said suddenly. She flung down 
her hands ; her face looked calm and resolved. “ There, 


28 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


have your way,” she said ; “ I yield, I submit. I will 
do what you wish.” 

“ Swear it, swear by the heaven above and the hell 
beneath.” 

“ I won’t do that, father. I give you my word. I can 
do no more. I will devote my life to this accursed 
search. I have never broken my word. Are you 
satisfied ? ” 

“Yes, I am satisfied; you never told me a lie 
yet.” 

He lay back panting against his pillows. He spoke 
huskily and weakly now that he had won his point. 

“ I am quite satisfied,” he said again. “ You are 
young and you will have time to do the work. 
Remember that Detective Crossley has got what few 
clues we were able to collect. It will be necessary for 
you to go on employing him. There is still a thousand 
pounds to my credit in the London City Bank. A 
thousand pounds will go a long way, and you must give 
Crossley what money he requires. As to your own 
expenses, you will of course leave the Grange, but you 
can live very cheaply in some inexpensive country 
place. I have trained you to want scarcely anything. 
You must keep Crossley up to the mark. Crossley 
must search and keep on searching ; he must follow up 
the faintest clue ; the money is there, and a thousand 
pounds with your aid ought to do the work. Don’t 
forget that the man is an Englishman and that there is 
an ugly scar on his lip. I feel convinced that you will 
carry my work to a successful issue, and that your 
brother’s blood will be avenged. Don’t turn your 


THE PACKET ON THE UPPER SHELF. 29 

young attention to the lighter things of existence ; don’t 
marry until you have fulfilled your sacred mission.” 

“ But if I find the murderer, father,” interrupted 
Nancy, “ if I am successful, what am I to do?” 

The old doctor gave a grim smile. 

“There is the justice of the law,” he answered; “the 
man would be tried and hanged ; I have thought of all 
that. I have pictured the dying scene, and had I lived 
such pleasure would that trial have given me, such ex- 
quisite bliss would I have felt in the moment that the 
murderer was breathing out his dying breath, that I 
could have wished for no greater gratification on earth ; 
but you, child, are made of different metal, and I 
have thought of a way by which revenge will come, 
swift, sure, and terrible. None know better than I that 
a woman’s strength has its limits. I myself will direct 
the bolt which severs that wretch’s life from this fair 
earth. Now take my keys, go to the cupboard in the 
wall and open it.” 

Nancy walked across the room, fitted a key into the 
cupboard and turned the lock. 

“ There is a packet on the upper shelf — bring it to 
me,” called the doctor to her. 

She raised her arms and lifted down a square box. It 
was neatly folded in brown paper, corded with strong 
cords and firmly sealed. 

“ Bring it here,” said her father. 

She did so. 

“ Lay it on the bed.” 

“ Yes, father,” she replied ; “ what does it contain ? ” 

“ Nancy, you are never to ooen the box.” 


80 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“What am I to do with it?” 

“When you find the man who killed your brother, 
you are to give this unopened box to him. Give it to 
him, and when you do so, say, * Dr. Follett, the father 
of Anthony Follett, asked me to give you this.’ You 
need not add a word more. Keep the box until that 
supreme moment comes. Whatever else you part from, 
never let this box out of your keeping. Where you go 
take it, for any day or any night the need for it may 
arise. When you give it to the murderer and when he 
opens it, your brother’s blood will be avenged.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

AT THE BUNGALOW. 

Meanwhile Adrian Rowton had gone quickly back 
to the Bungalow. It was a truly bare and comfortless 
place. He kept only one servant, the rough-looking 
man who has been already described. Hearing his 
horse’s steps on the path outside, the man, Samson 
by name, came out to meet his master. He was a 
middle aged, strongly- built, square individual; his hair, 
which had once been red, was now turning to a grizzly 
grey; it grew thick on his low forehead and was cut 
very short, so short that it stood up like a thick brush 
all over his head. He had a bulldog sort of face, with a 
massive chin, deeply cleft in the middle ; one eye was 
also decidedly smaller than the other. His name suited 
the man’s broad figure and muscular arms to perfection. 

“ You are late to-night,” he said, addressing Adrian 


AT THE BUNGALOW. 


31 


with a sort of growl. “ I lay down by the horses and 
went to s’eep ; I thought when I heard the clock strike 
one that you were not coming.” 

“ I was delayed on my way home from the station,” 
said Rowton briefly ; “ here, take Satyr, rub him down 
well and attend to him before you go to bed.” 

“ Yes, sir. Do you want any supper ? ” 

“ None that I can’t get for myself. Good-night, 
Samson; I shall not need your services before the 
morning.” 

Rowton turned to his left as he spoke ; Samson led 
the horse away to the stables which stood to the right 
of the Bungalow. Rowton entered the lowly built house 
under a heavy porch. A paraffin lamp was burning in 
the hall ; he took it up and entered a sort of general 
sitting-room. It was long and low; there were three 
windows occupying the greater part of one of the walls ; 
the room was furnished in nondescript style, partly as 
dining-room and partly as study; a square of carpet 
placed in front of the fire gave a certain degree of 
comfort to the upper portion of the apartment ; the lower 
part near the entrance door was bare of carpet and also 
of furniture. A high desk occupied the whole of one 
window. Rowton placed the paraffin lamp now on this 
desk ; he turned it up high and the light illuminated the 
entire room. 

“ Bad enough hole for a man to live in, but the lap of 
luxury compared to Nancy’s sitting-room,” he muttered. 
A red gleam sparkled angrily in his eye as he spoke ; he 
sat down where the firelight fell all over him, tossed off 
his heavy boots, and gazed gloomily into the heart of a 


32 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


large and glowing fire. He was a huge man, built on 
a massive scale. He tossed his hair impatiently from 
a broad and splendidly developed brow. At this 
moment his eyes were full of dreadful and fierce reflection, 
and he pulled at his long moustache with an almost 
savage gesture. 

“ Without food, without fire, without the decencies of 
life — that old fool is a madman,” he muttered again, 
“ but I’ll soon change matters. I take her with leave, if 
I can, but I take her without leave if any difficulties are 
put in my way, and sooner without leave than with, 
After all, to carry her off by force would suit my purpose 
better. The wild bird shall sing to me and make me 
gentle ; I cannot live without her. Hullo ! what’s up 
now, Samson ? Why don’t you go to bed ? ” 

“ I forgot to tell you, sir, that the boxes will be here 
to-morrow night.” 

“ Who told you that ? ” 

“Scrivener; I had a cipher from him by the last 
post.” 

“ All right,” said Rowton, “ take them in when they 
come.” 

“ Between one and two to-morrow night,” repeated 
Samson ; “ there is no moon and we can easily get them 
carted off from the station without anyone noticing. 
Scrivener will come with them.” 

“All right,” said Rowton again. “What are you wait- 
ing for ? To-morrow night is not to-night, and I am 
dog-tired and want to get to bed.” 

“ There is no room in the cellar unless we move the 
boxes which are there already,” continued Samson. “We 


AT THE BUISGALOW 


33 


cannot go down there with lights in the daytime, and I 
can’t do the job by myself.” 

“You dog ! I shan’t help you to move a box to-night ; 
get off to bed and leave me alone.” 

Samson withdrew, muttering angrily as he did so. 

When he left the room, Rowton rose from his chair 
by the fire, walked across the apartment and locked the 
door. Then stepping up to the uncarpeted portion of 
the room, he touched a secret spring, which immediately 
revealed a trap door. There was a ladder beneath the 
door which led down into a cellar. Rowton gazed 
gloomily down for a moment. 

He then let the trap door fall into its place, and a 
moment or two later put out the lamp, lit a candle and 
went upstairs to his bedroom. 

He slept until late the following morning, and when 
he went downstairs between nine and ten, Samson was 
bringing his breakfast into the room. 

“ That’s right,” said Rowton, “I am as hungry as a 
ferret. You can put it down ; I shall wait on myself.” 

“ You won’t forget that Scrivener is coming to-night ?” 

“ Am I likely to, when you remind me of the fact 
whenever you see me ? You want me to help with the 
boxes; Til go down to the cellar with you after break- 
fast.” 

“ As you please, sir, but if I were you I would not draw 
attention by taking a light there in the daytime.” 

“ We need not have a light ; we can move the boxes 
in the dark. Be sure, by the way, that you have the cart 
in good time at Mervyn station to-night.” 

“I forgot to say that Nelly has gone lame,” said 

3 


3i A SON OF ISHMAEL. 

Samson; “she hurt her hoof yesterday and won't be 
good for anything for a few days." 

“You must take Satyr, then.” 

“ Satyr,” said the man, scratching his head in some 
perplexity ; “ he ain’t used to harness ; he’ll fidget a good 
bit.” 

“Folly! don’t make obstacles; he’ll do very well. 
If anyone asks you about the boxes, say that I am 
getting some wine ; the goods will come in wine cases, 
so your story will sound all right. By the way, Samson, 
I shall leave here by the two o’clock train. I am sup- 
posed to be on my way to Liverpool if anyone asks, but 

” here Rowton’s voice dropped to a low whisper. 

Samson came close, bent his head slightly forward, 
listened with all his ears, and nodded once or twice 
emphatically. He was about to leave the room when 
he suddenly came back. 

“ I forgot to tell you, sir, that old Dr. Follett is dead.” 

“ Ah ! how did you hear that ? ” asked Rowton, who 
was in the act of pouring out a cup of coffee. 

“ The milkman brought me the news. He died be- 
tween three and four this morning. The wench will be 
in a fine taking — she was bound up, they say, in that 
queer old character.” 

“ That is enough, Samson ; I prefer not to discuss 
Miss Follett. Thanks, you can leave me alone now.” 

When Samson withdrew, Rowton went calmly on 
with his breakfast. He then returned to his bedroom 
and completely altered his dress. His rough Norfolk 
suit was exchanged for that which a gentleman might 
wear in town. Five minutes later he issued from the 


AT THE BUNGALOW. 


35 


Bungalow, looking like a very handsome, well set-up 
young man. Samson, who was grooming one of the 
horses, raised his head to watch him from behind the 
hedge. When he saw his master’s get-up, he grinned 
from ear to ear. 

“ Now what’s in the wind ? ” he said, under his breath ; 
aloud he called out : 

“Do you want the horse ? ” ' 

“ Not this morning.” 

“You ain’t helped me with the boxes.” 

“ True, I had forgotten ; I will help you when I come 
back. I am going to see Miss Follett.” 

Samson grinned again, but he took care now to with- 
draw his head from any chance of Rowton’s observation. 

The morning was clear and frosty ; the storm of the 
night before had completely spent itself ; the sky over- 
head was a watery blue, and the ground beneath felt 
crisp under Rowton’s feet as he walked. He quickly 
reached the Grange, and taking a short cut to the house, 
soon found himself on the lawn, where he had tied 
Satyr the night before. The door of the old Grange 
was wide open and Nancy stood on the steps. She 
heard her lover’s footsteps and greeted him with a very 
faint smite, which quickly vanished. Her face was 
ghastly white and red rims disfigured her beautiful grey 
eyes. 

“Here I am,” said Rowton. “ Good morning, sweet- 
heart ; give me a kiss, won’t you ? ” 

Nancy raised her trembling lips, then all of a sudden 
her calm gave way, she flung her arms passionately 
round Rowton’s neck and burst into convulsive sobs. 

3 * 


36 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“There, darling, there,” he said. He patted her on 
the cheek, kissed her many times and tried to comfort 
her, showering loving words upon her, and then kissing 
her more and more passionately. 

“You know,” she said at last in an almost inaudible 
whisper. 

“ Of course I know,” said Adrian. “ What you feared 
last night has come to pass — your father’s sufferings are 
over, he is dead. Peace to his soul, say I. Now it 
is your duty, Nancy, to take care of yourself and not 
to fret yourself into an illness. Remember I am here, 
and it is my privilege and blessing to feel that I have 
a right to comfort you.” 

Nancy with some difficulty disengaged herself from 
her lover’s arms. 

“ I have something to tell you,” she said— her face 
was like a sheet. “ Something happened last night after 
you left, and — Adrian — I am not free to marry you — I 
am not free to marry anyone ! I am a doomed woman ; 
a doom is on me and I cannot be your wife ! ” 

She covered her face with her trembling hands; 
tears rained down her cheeks. 

“ I swear,” said Rowton, “ that there is not a doom 
on this wide earth which shall part us. What is the 
matter, child? Tell me.” 

“I cannot; it is a secret.” 

“ I swear that you shall, and now.” He tried to clasp 
her again in his arms, but she slipped from him. 

“I can never tell you,” she said; “and while I hold 
this secret I must not be your wife!” 


A WILD WOOER. 


S7 


CHAPTER V. 

A WILD WOOER. 

Instead of replying indignantly to her excited words, 
Rowton gave Nancy a long, attentive and very searching 
glance. 

“ When did your father die ? ” he asked at last. 

“ Towards morning. He had gone through a terrible 
night, but towards morning he dozed off and the nurse 
who was with him said he passed away in his sleep. 
He looked quite peaceful in the end ; I think he trusted 
me fully.” 

“With his secret?” said Rowton. 

“Yes,” replied Nancy, “with his secret.” 

“ And you think,” continued the young man, again 
favouring her with a queer glance, “ that because you 
have a secret, you and I are to part ? ” 

“Yes; I can be no fit wife for you — it breaks my 
heart to have to say it. I love you more than I have 
any words to express, but I have got a dreadful thing 
to do, Adrian, and I can be no fit wife for any man 
until it is accomplished.” 

“You think so now, of course,” said Rowton, “but 
by-and-by you will change your mind. You forget that 
you are young. Whatever burden your father has laid 
upon you he cannot crush your youth. I am also 
young. Dark things have happened in my life, but 


38 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


do you think they have crushed the youth out of me ? 
Assuredly not, at least they have not when I look at 
you. I am here and you are my wild bird. I have 
lured you into my cage, and you are never going out 
again, Nancy, so you need not think it.” 

As he spoke Rovvton clasped her again in his arms ; 
I^e pressed her close to him and kissed her on her brow 
and lips. 

“ Ah ! ” he said, “ you cease to struggle ; you are 
content with your cage.” 

“ And with my master,” she said, bowing her head 
until it rested on his broad breast. 

“Yes, that’s right; it is folly to talk of parting lovers 
such as we are. Now, my little Nancy, you must cheer 
up. ni soon teach you a sweet new song. You won’t 
know yourself when I take you from all these dismal 
surroundings.” 

“What was I dreaming of?” said Nancy. “Your 
love is so sweet to me that for a moment I yielded. 1 
cannot marry you, Adrian. It is impossible.” 

“ You must give me a better reason than you have yet 
given, before I agree to any such nonsense.” 

“ Adrian, do you think I would say a thing of this 
sort without very grave reason ? It is not only the 
death of my father. Fathers and mothers die in the 
course of nature, but children still live on. No, it is 
not that. The burden laid upon me is of such a 
character that I must part from you. I must, Adrian, I 
must ; the thought drives me mad. I wish I had never 
been born.” 

All Nancy’s apparent composure gave way at this 


A WILD WOOER. 


89 


juncture^ Dry, tearless sobs shook her from head to 
foot ; she tottered as if a storm had really blown over 
her, and but for Rowton’s protecting arms would have 
fallen. 

“ Don’t hold me so close to you,” she panted at last, 
when she could find her voice ; ** don’t make it any 
harder. You guess, don’t you, how much I love you? 
Oh, why did God give me such passions, why did He 
give me the love I feel in my heart, and then crush me 
with such a fearful doom ? Oh ! I shall go mad, I shall 
go mad.” 

“ No, Nancy, you will do nothing of the kind,” said 
Rowton. He spoke, on purpose, in a calm, matter-of- 
fact voice. “You are over excited now and very much 
upset. Put on your hat, darling, and let us go outside. 
It is not so gloomy out as in; this tumble-down old 
Grange is enough to give the blues to anyone. You 
don’t live another week in such a hole. Wait, my angel, 
until you know what life really is, and life with me. I’ll 
show you what it is to live. Why, you won’t know your- 
self — no more dull days, no more cold and starvation. 
You shall have the softest of homes, the most luxurious 
of lives, the most tempting delicacies to eat, the most 
beautiful dresses to wear. You shall listen to music, 
you shall sing yourself, you shall see laughing faces 
around you, amusements of every sort shall but await 
your orders, and above and beyond all these things, 
sweetheart, there will be love. The mighty love of my 
heart will surround you.” 

Rowton had by no means a tender face — his bold 
black eyes, his stalwart frame, his swarthy complexion. 


40 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


his ringing voice, were all made to command — but when 
he chose, no man could be more tender ; his deep voice 
could thrill to the very depths of the soul, his eyes could 
speak volumes of passionate adoration. 

Nancy shivered as she looked at him. 

“ How much I love you,” she repeated, twining and 
untwining her slender hands as she spoke, “and yet, 
Adrian, I must part from you.” 

“Not a bit of it, wild bird,” was the reply. “You 
and I are never going to part again in this world — we 
shall be man and wife before a week is out. Now, 
Nancy, do you really believe that a slender bit of a girl 
like you can oppose a man of my sort, more particularly 
when you confess how much you love me ? Why, the 
last obstacle to our marriage was withdrawn last night, 
and now you talk about a secret, as if any secret that 
ever existed can come between us. After all, Nance, 
that old father of yours was a very crabbed nut to crack 
— well, he is out of the way, now.” 

“ He was my father — do not speak against him.” 

“ I won’t, child ; far be it from me to hurt you by dis- 
paraging the dead. Your father is dead now and you 
are alone. I whistle and you come to me, my pretty 
bird. I lure you to my side and you stay with me 
always. We’ll be married next week. Hullo ! what are 
you trying to say, sweetheart ? You had a terrible night, 
forsooth, and you speak of an awful doom which you say 
hangs over you. Faith ! Nancy, there is no doom which 
ever yet hung over a girl’s head that can part you from 
me. Now, look me full in the eyes. Jove ! child, you 
have almost wept your pretty eyes out of your head. 


A WILD WOOER. 


41 


Well, look full at me if you can. Dare to say ‘ no* when 
you look me full in the eyes.” 

“ I am overpowered by a terrible fate,” said Nancy 
slowly. “You know what a strange man my father was. 
You must have guessed that we, he and I, always carried 
a secret with us. It was a terrible secret and it ruined 
my father^s life — it ruined my life also. For six long 
years I have been a miserable girl.” 

“You shall be a happy woman for the rest of your 
days, to make up for those six years of misery.” 

“ Adrian, you must hear me out.” 

“ Walk up and down with me, sweetheart ; you’ll catch 
cold if you stand still.” 

Rowton stole his strong arm round Nancy’s waist; 
they walked in front of the old Grange. Nancy soon 
found her head resting against her lover’s shoulder. 

“Now we can talk,” he said, “but I defy you to 
say much about parting while I am as near to you as 
I am now; out with your secret, my wild bird, we’ll 
share it.” 

“ That’s just it — I cannot tell it to you.** 

“ What ! not even to your husband ? ’* 

“ You are not my husband yet.” 

“ I shall be in a week ; won’t you tell me your secret 
then?” 

“ Never — never on this side eternity.” 

“ Is it so bad as all that ? ” 

“ Yes, it is ghastly, terrible.” 

Rowton gave vent to a long, significant whistle. 

“Tell me what you can,” he said after a pause. 

“ I cannot say much, Adrian. After you left me last 


42 


A SON OF TSHMAEL. 


night, father sent for me. He made me promise to do 
something terrible. He bound me down on pain of his 
curse to carry on the work which he had not time to 
finish. I struggled to refuse, but he frightened me into 
compliance. He even threatened to return as a ghost to 
haunt me if I would not yield to his wishes.” 

“ The man must have been raving mad,” interrupted 
Rowton. 

“ Mad or not, his words had power over me,” said 
-Nancy. “ He terrified me into submission. I promised 
him that I would keep his secret and would carry on 
his life work. Then, Adrian, he asked me not to marry 
— ^^not to think of the lighter things of life until my task 
was accomplished.” 

“ And you promised ? ” 

“No, I hesitated.” 

“You did well, for if you had promised fifty times 
you would have found yourself my wife before many 
days had gone by.” 

“ Adrian, why are you so overmastering ? You over- 
power me — you subdue me. Your power over me is 
greater even than my father’s was.” 

“That is as it shou’d be,” said Rowton. “Now 
then, Nancy, let us to commonplace. I am truly 
sorry you are burdened with a secret, but if you think 
that secret is to keep us asunder you do not yet know 
your man. Listen, my child ; I am going to tell you 
something strange. It so happens, my pretty wild bird, 
that your having a secret does not matter so terribly to 
me as it would to other men. I also, sweetheart, am 
the owner of a secret care. Nancy, my pretty child, I 


A WILD WOOER. 


45 


am not what I seem. I look one thing, but I am in 
reality something different. There, now, I have startled 
you, have I not ? It would be comical to hear what you 
really think of me, from those red lips. What sort of a 
man do I seem, Nancy mine? ” 

“ The best, the bravest, the noblest in the world,” she 
answered. “You are an honourable English gentleman ; 
a man whose word is as good as his bond. You are a 
true man in heart and in soul.” 

“ Faith ! child, do not say any more or you’ll crush 
me to the earth. Why, you poor little girl, I am not 
a bit like that in reality. Do you think I have no wild 
blood in me. Don’t I look at times, at times — the 
truth now, Nancy — don’t I look at times a very 
Ishmaelite, a man whose hand might be against every 
other man ? Has not my eye a wild gleam in it ? Look 
at me now, Nance, and say truly what you think.” 

“ You never appear anything to me but what I have 
just said,” she answered, giving him a somewhat timid 
glance, “ but it is true that others have told me ” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” laughed Rowton, “ I thought that 
whisper would get about. You see, my fair Nancy, I 
am not exactly what I seem. To you, my darling, I 
am all that is true, all that is honourable, but to the 
world at large — I will whisper it to you, Nancy — the 
world and I, the world and Adrian Rowton, are at 
daggers drawn. Now, my love, will you marry me, 
knowing this ? ” 

“ You mean that you have a secret? ” said Nancy. 

“ I have.” 

“ A real grave secret ? ” 


4i 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“Yes, the gravity of the thing cannot be exaggerated.” 

“ And you won’t tell me ? ” 

“ No, never. Are you curious ? Curiosity, thy name 
is woman.” 

“ I will crush my curiosity, Adrian, if you think I had 
better not know.” 

“Dear little Nance, you must never know. You 
shall be my wife, but you must respect my secret, and 
if you see things which you do not understand, you 
must be a good child and ask no questions ; and I on 
my part, will promise to respect your secret and not to 
worry you with questions, even when your conduct 
surprises me — even when the desire to know bubbles 
to the tip of my tongue. Why, Nancy, the fact of our 
both having a secret makes the whole arrangement fair 
and above board.” 

“It seems so,” said Nancy; “in one sense it seems 
fair, and yet in another, dreadful. This is not my idea 
of a happy married life.” 

“ Never mind what your idea is ; a happier husband 
and wife than you and I will never be found. Well, 
that is settled; we will be married by special licence 
next week.” 

“So soon ! ” said Nancy. 

“ So late, you mean,” he answered, and stooping he 
pressed his lips to hers. “ I hunger for you,” he said. 
“ I cannot live any longer without you. We’ll be married 
next week by special licence. You have only a few 
more days to live in this horrid old Grange.” 

“ And you take me to the Bungalow ? ” she asked. 

“ To the Bungalow ! ” he repeated — he laughed. 


LONG JOHN. 


45 


“Jove! child,” he said, “do you think that a comfort- 
able home ? — have I nothing better than that to offer my 
little girl ? ” 

“ I do not know,” she replied. “ I shall be quite 
satisfied with any home with you — you are poor, are you 
not, Adrian ?” 

“ Ah ! now I shall surprise you,” he said. “ I have a 
secret, after all, which I can confide to my little girl.” 

“ What is that ? ” she asked. 

“I am a rich man, Nancy Follett; your betrothed is 
a gentleman of means.” 

“ Indeed ! ” she said in surprise. 

“ Yes ; I have heaps of money. I am a landed pro- 
prietor. In another part of England, a long way from 
here, there is a beautiful mansion which belongs to your 
humble servant, Adrian Rowton — it is furnished richly, 
softly, luxuriously. In short, I have a nest of down for 
my wild bird, and I can deck her with jewels. Oh I 
child, how lovely you will look when you wear your 
husband’s diamonds.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

LONG JOHN. 

When an hour later Rowton returned to the Bungalow, 
Samson met him in the porch. 

“ Scrivener has come,” he said. 

“Scrivener! I did not expect him to-day,” said 
Rowton, a frown gathering between his thick brows. 

“ He has come, sir, and he wants to see you ; he is 
waiting in the dining-room. There is a good bit of 


46 


A SON OF ISHMAJEL. 


excitement about him— I cannot tell what the news 
can be.” 

“Well, ril go to him,” said Rowton; “don't keep 
me, Samson.” 

“When will you want the horse saddled, sir? You 
are going to catch the two o’clock train, are you 
not?” 

“No, I have changed my mind. I shall not leave 
here before night or early to-morrow morning ; get back 
to your work now, don’t keep me.” 

The man favoured Rowton with a keen glance ; he 
then turned softly on his heel, whistling as he did so. 

“ Gone out in his best clothes,” he remarked to him- 
self ; “ come back again with the airs of a lord ; changes 
his plans when there is danger in the wind. Now, what 
does this mean ? Seems to me it ain’t far to guess — 
sweethearting, and marrying, and giving in marriage. 
Good Heaven ! if this sort of thing goes on we are all 
lost.” 

Samson returned to some mysterious carpentering 
that was engaging his attention in the stable, and Rowton 
went into the dining-room. 

A little man, with sandy hair and a thin face, was 
standing by one of the windows. He was vulgarly 
dressed and had somewhat the appearance of a fifth-rate 
commercial traveller. He had large bushy whiskers, a 
shade redder than his hair, but his small eyes were light 
and set far back in his head. With the exception of his 
whiskers the little man had a clean-shaven face, which 
revealed the lines of remarkably thin and somewhat 
crooked lips. The lips alone marked the face with the 


LONG JOHN. 


47 


Stamp of originality — they were cruel and repulsive in 
their expression. 

When he saw Rowton enter he turned and came up to 
him with a quick, alert tread. 

“You have kept me waiting for over an hour,” he 
said. 

“Well, I am sorry. Scrivener. You see I did not 
expect you,” said Rowton. He flung himself into a 
chair as he spoke, and favoured his unprepossessing 
visitor with a quizzical glance. 

“Come, no nonsense of that sort,” said Scrivener. 
“You were bound to be here. I thought the boxes 
would be packed and ready to be sent off ; Samson 
tells me there is nothing done.” 

“ Everything that is necessary is done,” said Rowton. 
“ I don’t choose to be called over the coals by Samson.” 

“Come, come, Rowton,” said Scrivener, giving his 
tall host another lightning glance, “there is no good 
in your getting into a temper. You are all very well, 
and of course a great help to us, and your manners and 
your ways are no end of a blind, and we are awfully 
obliged to you, but all the same, business is business, 
and you have no call to neglect any of our interests.” 

“ I do not do so,” said Rowton. He stood up as he 
spoke. “ By Heaven ! ” he exclaimed, “ I give up my 
life to your cursed interests. I have wrecked my soul 
for them. You have no right to twit me with want of 
zeal. Where would any of you be without me ? ” 

“ I know that. Silver, I know it,” said the man in 
a servile tone He walked again to the window and 
looked out “All the same,” he added after a pause. 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 

“the boxes are not ready and they must be moved 
to night.” 

“ You have the afternoon to get them ready in,” said 
Rowton. 

“ Well, let us have something to eat and set to work,” 
answered Scrivener. 

Rowton crossed the room and rang the bell. Samson 
appeared after a moment. 

“ Get something to eat for yourself and this man in 
the kitchen,” he said. 

“ In the kitchen ! ” said Scrivener ; “ do you think 1 
will eat in the kitchen with your serving man ! ” 

“You won’t eat with me,” replied Rowton. “I am 
sick of the whole concern and have a good mind to 
cut it.” 

“ Ah ! you dare not do that,” said Scrivener ; “ you are 
too deep in by now. What about the Kimberley 
diamonds and the silver ingots, and the ? ” 

Rowton’s tone changed. He stood up, and a look of 
perplexity flitted across his handsome face. | 

“ It is true. Scrivener,” he said, “ it is too late to with- 
draw now, and I did wrong to lose my temper over one 
like you.” 

There was an indescribable scorn in his words. 1 

“Yes,” he continued, “I am in too deep; there is 
nothing for it but to stay in.” 

“ And the life is a jolly one, my fighting cock,” said 
Scrivener. 

“Yes, jolly enough.” Rowton began to hum the first 
bar of the well-known song, “ Begone, dull care ; ” and 
his rich baritone filled the room. 


LONG JOHN. 


49 


“ Yes ! faith,” he continued, “ the life suits me well 
enough; I am a jolly rover, and I like excitement 
and dare-devil escapes, and all the rest of the thing. I 
am sorry I showed temper to you. Scrivener, but the fact 
is, I did not want you just now on the scene. I am 
particularly busy at the present moment on my own 
account.” 

“But your time is ours,” said Scrivener. “What 
would Long John say, or Spider, if I told them you 
were giving your most precious moments to private 
concerns ? ” 

“Now, listen to me. Scrivener,” said the other man; 
“your pals may say exactly what they please of me. I 
have agreed to take the lead of you all, and I do not 
complain of the life; it has plenty of excitement and 
there are heaps of plums. I do not attempt also to deny 
that the richest plums have fallen into my mouth, but 
clearly understand once for all, that I know my own 
value. I know that I have a head on my shoulders; 
I know that I have a keen eye for business ; I know 
that I am a desperate man whose courage has never 
yet failed him. No one knows better than I the game 
I am playing, and no one more clearly realises what my 
lot must be in the long run. ‘A short life and a merry 
one ’ is my motto, and before Heaven ! I’ll have it ; but 
if you think, even for a moment, that you are going, any 
of you, to bully me or even pretend to lead me. I’ll cut 
off to Australia by the very next steamer that sails.” 

“Yes, and if you do,” said Scrivener, “you’ll be met 
on board and brought back ; you know where. I do not 
think,” he continued, “ that I need add any more.” 


4 


60 


A SON OF I'HMAEL. 


“I don’t think you need; we both understand the 
position,” said Rowton. 

He sat down again and remained perfectly still, with 
his hands hanging between his great legs, his head 
slightly bent forward. There were lines of perplexity 
wrinkling his brow ; but presently he looked up with a 
laugh, which showed the gleam of strong white teeth. 

“ You would suppress me if you could,” he said ; 
“but it would take a stronger than you to do that. 
My day is only at noon ; I wait for the black dog of 
care, I wait for the demon of misery until the night time. 
Now then, tell me. Scrivener, why it is you have altered 
your plans and come here at this hour ; Samson and I 
did not expect you until nightfall.” 

“I came to tell you,” said Scrivener, “that the goods 
which you expect will not arrive until to-morrow. We 
have had word at our head office that it is safer to keep 
them where they are for another twenty-four hours. I 
thought it best to call on purpose.” 

“ Did any one see you coming ? ” 

“ Did any one see me ? ” said the man, laughing. “ Ot 
course — plenty ; why, I had a pipe and a glass of spirits 
at the sign of the ‘Jolly Dogs,’ on my way through the 
village. I am a commercial traveller this time. How 
do you like the get-up ? ’* 

“ Admirable, most admirable ; I did not know you at 
first. I really thought you were the character.” 

“Yes, I was sure these checks would do it,” said 
Scrivener, looking down with affection at the hideous 
pattern of his trousers. “I had a good time at the 
‘Jolly Dogs,’ and have ordered dinner there on my 


LONG JOHN. 


61 


return. Oh ! I’m all right, but I have only told you one 
half of what brought me here. We have an important 
commission for you, Silver, and you are to go up to town 
to see Long John to-night.” 

“What does he want me for? ” asked Rowton. 

“ He wants you to go to Spain with ” 

The man bent forward and began to whisper. 

Rowton’s brow grew black. 

“ When does he want me to go ? ” he asked. 

“ To-morrow.” 

“ How long will the business take ? ” 

“ That depends on yourself ; it ought to be done 
within a fortnight.” 

“Then tell Long John from me that he must get 
some other man to do the job ; I am already engaged 
and cannot go.” 

“This is madness,” said Scrivener; “you are the only 
man among us who can go. How can you pretend to 
be one of us and yet shirk duty in this way ? ” 

“You must get someone else,” repeated Rowton. 
“ Ah ! here comes lunch ; you can lunch with me, after 
all, if you please, Scrivener; I can recommend this 
round of beef. Samson, bring in some ale.” 

The man withdrew. 

“You’ll have to go,” pursued Scrivener, as he followed 
bis host to the table. 

“ I do not intend to ; I have another engagement.” 

“ But no one else speaks Spanish ; you are the only 
one among us who has the slightest smattering of the 
tongue. You alone can do the work.” 

Adrian drew the great joint of beef towards him. 

4 * 


52 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I am sorry to disoblige,” he said, as he cut huge 
slices from the joint and piled them on his guest’s 
plate, “ but the fact is, I am going to be married next 
week.” 

“ Great Heaven ! ” cried Scrivener. “ Is this the time 
for marrying ? What do we want with a woman in the 
business ? ” 

Rowton’s black eyes flashed. 

“ Do you think I would bring her into your accursed 
business?” he said. “Not I; but now listen once for 
all. Scrivener. I marry the girl I love next week, and I 
go away with her on a holiday and don’t return to busi- 
ness for a month. For five weeks from now I take 
complete holiday. You can tell Long John so from 
me. At the end •f that time I am once more at his 
service. Now he can take me or leave me. I am quite 
willing to cut the concern, notwithstanding your threats. 
I can get off to Australia as knowingly as anybody 
else.” 

“No, you can’t, Rowton; your personality is too 
marked. Cut four inches off your height, and take a 
trifle from your breadth, and give you less strongly 
marked features, and you* might manage the thing ; but 
what disguise could you put on that we should not see 
Adrian Rowton peeping through ? You have no help 
for yourself ; you are in the toils and you must stay with 
us to the bitter end.” 

“ I am always forgetting,” said Rowton. “ Were it 
not for — ” he stretched out his huge arms as he spoke 
and indulged in a mighty yawn— “were it not for the 
angel who will soon walk by my side, I would cut the 


LONG JOHN. 


53 


knot in another way. As it is, you do well to remind 
me of my cage, Scrivener ; I am in it, but even a captive 
lion has the liberty of the length of his chain ; and I 
shall take mine to the full length of my tether. Five 
weeks I take; a week to get ready for my wedding 
bells and four weeks of bliss with the angel of my kfe. 
After that you and the devil can have your way. Now 
I have spoken, and you can take my message to Long 
John.” 

“You have spoken truly,” said Scrivener. “lUl take 
your message ; I do not promise what the upshot will be.” 

“ It may be anything you please as far as I care,” 
said Rowton. “ I’ll change my mind for no man ; now, 
help yourself to some beer.” 

Scrivener took a long draught, and Rowton ate in 
silence ; his thoughts were far away, and his heart, for 
all his brave words, felt like lead in his breast. 

While he ate and frowned and thought. Scrivener 
regarded him furtively. 

“ Where are you going to live when you marry ? ” he 
asked abruptly. 

Rowton brought his thoughts back to present things 
with an effort. 

“ Did you speak ? ” he asked. 

“ I only want to know. Silver, if your bride is to come 
to this house?” 

“ She is not.” 

“ Where then ? ” 

“ She will come with me to Rowton Heights.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Scrivener ; “ you don’t mean to 
say ” 


54 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Rowton nodded. 

“ Yes,” he said, “I do ; the king will come into his 
own ; I shall lord it at Rowton Heights, and mark my 
words, will be the great man of the place before I am 
six weeks in possession. I am marrying a lady, and she 
will help me to entertain the county folk.” 

Scrivener’s small eyes began to glitter. 

“ It is like you, Rowton,” he said after a pause ; “ you 
always were magnificent in your ideas; but Rowton 
Heights ! I did not think you would dare.” 

“There is nothing under Heaven that I would not 
dare,” said Rowton. “ And now, with your permission, 
if you have lunched, I have got heaps to attend to. 
Take my message to Long John ; tell him that I wed 
next week, that I take my full honeymoon with its fou;: 
quarters ; and that at the end of that time he will hear 
from me from Rowton Heights.” 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE WEDDING NIGHT. 

Adrian Rowton kept his word to the letter. His iron 
will seemed to bend all things to his wishes. Nancy 
Follett forgot her father’s dying injunctions. Long John 
in his lair in London remained passive. Samson did 
not dare to utter a word. Rowton went backwards and 
forwards day by day from London to Andover. The 
special licence was procured— the rector was asked to 
come to church to perform his duty; and on a certain 
dull morning early in December, when the snow lay on 
the ground and the world was steeped in a winter’s fog. 


THE WEDDING NIGHT. 


66 


Nancy Follett stood by Adrian Rowton’s side and was 
made, with the full blessing of the Church, his lawful 
wedded wife. 

The marriage was so unusual, so sudden and unex- 
pected, that early as the hour was, the little church was 
filled. The men and women of the neighbourhood, 
who had noticed the girl in church with the interest 
people will always give to a mysterious, little known 
person, came to see her wedded. She made a very 
beautiful bride. Her white dress, perfectly simple and 
unbridal in its material, but enhanced the extreme fair- 
ness of her face; excitement had lent colour to her 
cheeks and made her dark grey eyes look almost black. 
Adrian Rowton’s height and magnificent physique were 
commented on by everyone. As he walked down the 
church with Nancy’s hand resting on his arm, he 
nodded to his friends, but Nancy kept her eyes lowered; 
she did not know anyone, and did not care to receive 
the smiles of strangers. The bridal pair went back to 
the Grange, where Nancy hastily changed her white 
dress for a somewhat shabby-looking travelling costume 
— it was the best she could make up at short notice — 
and in a carriage and pair the couple started for the 
railway station en route for Paris. 

They arrived at their destination late that night and 
went straight to the Grand Hotel, where Rowton had 
telegraphed for rooms. They found a bedroom, dress- 
ing-room and a large salon at their service. Nancy felt 
intensely happy, but also queerly restless and excited. 
She walked about her salon and looked out of the window 
into the courtyard below. Large parties of smartly- 


56 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


dressed people were sitting there, a fountain playing in 
the middle; the place looked gay, very gay, and a 
splendid string band was playing martial music. Winter 
as it was, the night was clear and full of stars, the 
atmosphere was destitute of the faint suspicion of fog 
which almost always hangs over England in winter. 
Nancy opened the window and looked out; Rowton 
went and stood by her side. 

“ What do you think of Paris the gay ? ” he said. 

Something in his tone made her start. She drew in 
her head, turned round and faced him. 

“ Why did you bring me to Paris for my honeymoon ? ” 
she asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean, Nance ?” he answered. 

“ What I say,” she replied. “ Why did you bring me 
here ? I had forgotten.” 

She covered her face with her trembling hands ; she 
shook from head to f#ot. 

“My darling, what in the world is the matter?” 
asked Rowton in astonishment. 

“ I am oppressed by the strangest sensation,” replied 
the bride. “ It will pass. Oh, yes, it will pass. Don’t 
speak to me for a minute.” 

She left her bridegroom’s side and went over to the 
far end of the room. Sitting almost with her back to 
him, she gazed gloomily at the glowing hearth, where a 
pile of logs burned with cheerful blaze. 

Rowton watched her with knitted brow and in some 
perplexity. 

She felt that he was watching her. Suddenly she 
sprang to her feet and faced him. 


THE WEDDING NIGHT. 


67 


“ You wonder at me ? ” she said. 

“ I do,” he answered. 

“ The thing is past,” she said with a smile. “ But I 
must tell you ; I cannot keep a secret from you on our 
wedding night. For a moment, Adrian, I — I who love 
you with passion, with devotion, with a love which seems 
to me to pass the love of any ordinary woman, I felt that 
I hated you — for a moment you became intolerable to 
me ; I shrank from your face — you reminded me in 
some incomprehensible way of Anthony.” 

“ Of Anthony ! ” exclaimed Rowton. “ Who is 
Anthony ? ” 

“ My brother Anthony. Oh ! we must not speak of 
him.” 

“ Had you a brother named Anthony ? ” asked 
Rowton. 

“ I had. He is dead. I never care to talk •f him. 
You look queer, Adrian ; did you ever know anyone of 
that name?” 

“Yes, I once met a man of the name. He passed 
into my life and passed out of it ; I have a somewhat 
disagreeable reminiscence of him. Let us go downstairs, 
Nance ; why should we stay here alone? ” 

“ But it is our wedding night,” she answered. She 
went to his side, put her arms round his neck and laid 
her fair soft head on his breast. 

“ Look me in the face, little girl,” said her husband. 
He placed his hand under her chin and raised her 
charming face, gazing full into the lovely eyes which 
she raised to his. “You don’t hate your husband now, 
do you ? ” 


S8 


A SON OP ISHMAEti. 


“ No, no, no ! ” she reiterated. “ It was a passing 
sensation, just a momentary queer stirring in my heart ; 
it came when I suddenly remembered that we were in 
Paris for our honeymoon. The fact is this, Adrian. 
Since father’s death I have been in a whirl, and it was 
only a few minutes ago that I suddenly remembered 

Paris in connection with Oh ! there is something 

I must never say to you — the thought rather overpowered 
me for a moment, and I remembered poor dead Anthony. 
I won’t speak of him again. Yes, I love you, my 
darling, my best, my noblest. Adrian, I mean to be a 
good wife to you.” 

“ Just go on loving me, Nance, and I shall want 
nothing further,” he replied. “No-one else loves me, 
and although I am a hard, dare-devil sort of chap, I 
hunger for love — the soft beautiful love of a good 
woman. You are a good woman, my angel, and you 
are mine; you love me and I love you ; just bathe me 
in your love, sweetheart, and I ask for nothing further. 
A perfect wife I do not want — I do not look for a 
perfect wife, but I do want a wife whose whole heart 
is mine, who is mine absolutely.” 

“ And I am yours, absolutely,” she answered. 

“I can be fiercely jealous,” he continued. “If I 
thought you gave any part of yourself to anybody or 
anything but me, I don’t know what I wouldn’t do. 
Even if you gave your love to a dead man, Nance, I 
should be jealous— and jealousy with me would be 
fierce— I am all fierce passion. The side I turn to you, 
my darling, is almost angel, for you make it so, but all 
the rest of me is demon; you must keep that little 


THE WEDDING NIGHT. 


59 


angel bit of me alive, and you will, if you love me with 
your whole complete entire heart.’' 

“ I do, I do,” she replied. “ You are all in all to me. 
Would I have disobeyed my father’s dying wish if I 
had not loved you best of all ? I love no one else, 
Adrian.” 

“ And I love no one else,” he answered with a laugh. 
“ Come, Nancy, we have a whole month to make merry 
in. We will make merry — we’ll have a royal good time. 
Do you hear that music in the courtyard ? Does it not 
seem to draw you ? ” 

It does,” she replied, ** it is wonderful.” 

“ We’ll go and sit there, and listen to it.” 

“ But there are strangers there, and I am shy.” 

** You shan’t be shy long, my beauty — you shall meet 
fresh faces daily, and fresh lives will touch your life, and 
your time will be gay, very gay. We will go out shop- 
ping to-morrow and you shall buy lovely things — 
wonderful raiment of all sorts, to make a fit setting for 
that grave, soft, magical loveliness of yours. I shall 
take delight in choosing things for you. You don’t 
know yourself yet, Nance; you don’t know what a 
great gift is yours, what a power you have in your face ; 
but your beauty will be acknowledged by all when you 
wear the things which I shall buy for you. Yes, we will 
have a fine time to-morrow, just the time which they say 
a woman loves. But now, come downstairs with me 
and sit in the court.” 

“ They are all wearing wiaps of some sort, and I have 
nothing pretty,” said Nancy. “You know that I came 
to you without a trousseau, Adrian.” 


60 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


** What is a trousseau ? ” asked Rowton. 

“ Oh ! all the pretty things that brides bring to the 
men they love — they are called by the collective name 
* trousseau/ ” 

“Then this right loyal lover will give his bride the 
pretty things himself, and — stay a moment, a recollection 
comes to me. I believe I stuffed something into my 
portmanteau, something which I thought would suit you. 
Wait a moment.” 

Rowton went into the adjoining bedroom. He re- 
turned in a few moments with a thin parcel wrapped in 
tissue paper. 

“ There,” he said, “ you can wrap that round you. I 
don^t believe a lady down there will have anything more 
radiant to sun herself in.” 

Nancy took the pins out of the paper and the next 
moment a gossamer shawl woven with what appeared like 
every thread of the rainbow — as light as a feather, as fine 
as a cobweb — was extended on her arm. 

“ This is wonderful ! ” she exclaimed. “ I never saw 
anything so like a bit of the sun itself.” 

“It came from Persia, it is only a trifle,” said Rowton. 
“ I thought of you when I put it away ; let me wrap it 
round you ; now come down stairs.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 

The next day, true to his word, Rowton took Nancy to 
the shops. They went to the Bon Marche, and to many 
other places where finery the most fascinating, dresses 


AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 


61 


the most bizarre^ articles of toilet the most chic in the 
world, were to be found. Rowton consulted one of the 
shopwomen whose taste wis supposed to be absolute : 
she brought out one costume after another and fitted 
them on Nancy, while her husband looked on and 
criticised and admired. Morning dresses, afternoon 
dresses, tea gowns, evening dresses, were bought in 
variety and abundance. With a mere nod of his head 
Rowton would signify to the attendant that such a thing 
was to be sent to Mrs. Rowton to the Grand Hotel ; he 
never even enquired the price. 

** You want shoes and dainty stockings and handker- 
chiefs and ribbons, and feathers and flowers,” he 
said, just laying his hand for an instant on Nancy’s 
shoulder. “Oh, I know how women ought to be 
dressed.” 

“See here,” he said to the attendant, “fit Mrs. 
Rowton with all that is necessary. Let her have some 
dozen of this, and of this, and this — ” he indicated 
costly thinga with his hand. “ Now then, Nancy, we 
will go to the millinery department.” 

Nancy found herself furnished with small velvet caps, 
with fascinating toques, with hats adorned with great 
plumes of ostrich feathers, which made her look, Rowton 
said, with eyes of passionate love, as if she had just 
stepped out of a Gainsborough picture. The morning 
passed in a perfect whirl, and when finally the pair re- 
turned to the hotel for lunch, Nancy said frankly that 
she felt as if she had been going about all the morning 
with a fairy godmother. 

“ Ah ! you will have a good deal more of that sensa- 


62 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


tion,” replied her husband. “ Hurry with your lunch, 
now, for afterwards we must go to the Palais Royal to 
look at trinkets. 

“ Trinkets ? ” she said ; “ you don’t mean jewels ? ” 

“ I mean a few rings and necklaces, and ornaments for 
your hair,” he said. “ I have taken a box at the opera 
to-night and you shall look — ah ! Fll not be the only one 
to look at you to-night, Nancy mine ; no woman will look 
fairer, more divine than my little girl.” 

The trinkets were bought and Nancy’s slender fingers 
were laden with sparkling rings. A necklace consisting 
of a single row of magnificent pearls was secured to en- 
circle her dainty throat. 

“Not that these are much,” said Rowton; “I have 
diamonds which you shall wear. They are too valuable 
to take away from home. We will have a house in town 
next season, Nance, and you shall wear them then ; I 
won’t show them to you until then. Pearls suit you best 
however, you are so maidenly, so delicate, so youthful. 
Heavens I to think that one like you should belong to 
one like me. My darling, my treasure, what have I done 
that Providence should be so good to me ? ” 

“ And what have I done to deserve such a husband ? ” 
she answered. 

“ Do not say that,” he said, his tone completely chang- 
ing; “you do not really know me.” 

“ I know what you are to me ; I know that in all the 
world no more gallant gentleman, no braver prince 
amongst men could live.” 

“Come, come, Nancy, it is bad to flatter,” he said ; 
but his eyes shone and his lips trembled. 


AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 


63 


“ If she only knew ! ” he said to himself. 

They drove in the Bois in the afternoon and after 
dinner went to the opera. Nancy was dressed for the 
opera in one of her new costumes ; it was white, shaded 
off to the faintest tinge of rose. She looked something 
like a summer cloud when she was dressed in these 
billows of diaphanous texture ; the pearls round her 
neck gave the last touch to the dazzling effect. 

‘‘You look like the heart of a sea-shell,” said her 
husband ; “ there, let me look at you from this distance ; 
yes, the effect is perfect. Now again, favour me by 
standing so. Now you resemble a sunset cloud; you 
are all poetry, you are a dream. In fact you are a living, 
walking poem.” 

“ Don’t, Adrian,” she said. 

“ Why do you say ‘ don’t ’ ? it is my delight to see how 
much can be made of unique beauty like yours. To- 
morrow night you shall be dressed quite differently ; to- 
morrow night that pale sweet face, those dark deep eyes 
shall gleam in more sombre surroundings, and then my 
princess will look like a star. Give me my delight, 
Nancy; don’t refuse it to me.” 

“ But my father is not dead a fortnight,” she said ; “ I 
ought to be in mourning for him.” 

“ Tut 1 not a bit of it ; no mourning during our wedding 
tour. Afterwards you shall be up to your throat in crepe 
if you like.” 

“ It is strange of you, Adrian, to say so very much 
about afterwards; when you say ‘afterwards,’ a cold 
shiver seems to go through me.” 

“Faith, child,” he replied, pulling himself together 


64 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


with an effort, “ I don’t mean anything. You shall, if I 
can manage it, walk on roses as long as you live ; and 
now, now, Nance — during our glorious honeymoon, we 
will not think for one moment of the possibility of a 
shadow. Come, darling, the carriage must be waiting 
for us in the courtyard.” 

They went downstairs in the lift. 

Rowton’s prophecy was abundantly fulfilled : there 
was not a man in the place who did not look with more 
than admiration at the lovely girl who walked by his side. 
They went to the opera and Rowton watched the faces 
of his fellow- men and women. Some acquaintance in a 
distant box recognised him and bowed. Rowton re- 
turned their salutations icily ; he did not want old friends 
to crop up here ; he was determined to share Nance 
with no one during the golden four weeks which he had 
allowed himself. But when a Frenchman of the name 
of D’Escourt knocked at the door of the Rowtons’ box, 
Rowton felt forced to admit him and to introduce him 
to Nance. The two men talked for a little time in French, 
and D’Escourt promised himself the pleasure of calling 
on Mrs. Rowton early the following day. He sat down 
presently by her side, and began to talk. He was a man 
of the world, extremely polished, and with a perfect 
knowledge of English as well as French. Nancy’s 
French was not her strong point, and she was glad to talk 
to the stranger in English. 

“ By the way,” he said suddenly, turning and looking 
at Rowton, who with a frown between his brows gazed 
gloomily into the house, “ it is some years now since I 
saw you in our gay capital, my friend; not since i8 ” 


AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 


(5 


He mentioned a date; it was the year of Anthony 
Follett^s death. 

“ I wonder,” thought Nance to herself, “if Adrian 
could help me in my strange and awful search. I will 
not think to-night of that terrible fate which hangs 
over me.” 

She tried to force her thoughts from the subject, but 
try as she would, they hovered round it. She suddenly 
felt cold and miserable; her conscience seemed to 
reproach her for her present extraordinary bliss ; she 
thought of her dead father, the desolate Grange, and the 
long six years of misery. Her present life seemed like 
a dream; she might awaken' any moment to find herself 
back at the Grange ; Rowton not allowed to visit her, her 
father there, and the dreadful, stingy, starved existence 
once more her own. 

She started, hearing Adrian’s voice in her ears. 

“A penny for your thoughts,” he said. 

“ I was trying to pinch myself,” she said. 

She looked up and saw that D’Escourt had left 
them. “ I was trying to pinch myself,” she con- 
tinued, “ to find out whether I was really in a dream 
or not.” 

“ You are not in a dream ; at least, if you are, I am 
in it too ; and I vote we stay in dream-land, for it is 
monstrous pleasant,” said Adrian. “ Now listen to that 
music, Nance; does it not uplift your soul? ” 

She turned and looked vaguely at the performers on 
the stage. The opera was one of Rossini’s ; the scene 
now represented was a harvest festival; the stage was 
full of motion and brilliant colour ; the gay, light, up- 

5 


66 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


lifting music rose to the very roof of the magnificent 
opera house. 

“ It is almost too much,” said Nance, with something 
like a sob in her throat. She looked suddenly so white 
and weary that Rowton insisted on her returning to the 
hotel without seeing the piece out. 

The next, day, to her astonishment, he proposed that 
they should leave Paris and go on to the Riviera. 

“We will go to Nice,” he said; “it is gay enough 
there, and we shall have warmth and sunshine; we 
will visit Monte Carlo, too. Oh ! I don’t gamble, you 
need not fear anything of that sort, but for all that we 
will have one exciting evening at the roulette tables.” 

“ I am sorry,” said Nance. “ I am interested in Paris 
now that I am here, and I should like to see more of it. 
M. D’Escourt said, too, that he would call, and he pro- 
mised to arrange to take us to Versailles ; don’t you re- 
member, Adrian ? ” 

“Yes, I remember,” said Rowton; “but that fact can 
scarcely influence my movements.’* He spoke with 
the faintest sneer. “ I want to get on, Nance. Paris 
is all very well ; it satisfies me in one sense, and yet in 
another it does not.” 

“ Do you know Paris ? Have you been often here ? ” 

“Yes; I spent two years in this gay capital; the 
liveliest and yet the most wretched time of my life.” 

“ I heard you mention a certain date last night,” said 
Nancy in a low voice, which slightly trembled. “ You 
mentioned the year i8 — It so happened that I am 
interested in that date. It was just then the cloud came 
which changed father’s life and mine.” 


AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 


67 


“We need not go into that subject now, need we? ” 
asked Rowton with manifest uneasiness. “ I want you 
to forget those six dreadful years of famine. You have 
now, to borrow a Bible simile, come into the seven years 
of plenty.” 

“ So I have,” she replied, running to him and kissing 
him with passion. “ How happy you make me ; how 
more than willing I am to do anything you wish.” 

“ Then we will take the Mediterranean express from 
the Gare de Lyon this evening,” said Rowton. “ I will 
go now to try and secure a sleeping carriage. You 
can begin to pack some of your pretty things while I 
am away from you, Nance.” 

Rowton left the salon and hailing a fiacre, drove 
straight to the Gare de Lyon. 

“I don't want D'Escourt to have much to say to 
Nance,” he said to himself. “We were good friends in 
1 8 — . Heaven! When I remember that time; can I 
possibly be the same man? Yes, I was a gay dog 
then; but upright and honourable, notwithstanding all 
my pranks. I could look men straight in the face. 
Now things are different. D’Escourt knew me inti- 
mately at that time. Yes, we were great friends. He 
was glad to see me last night ; he evidently knows 
nothing; but if he comes often he may begin to ask 
questions. His questions would be highly inconvenient. 
Not that Nance, bless her, could answer one of them. 
But suppose he asks me straight out, while that child is 
looking on, ‘ What have you done with yourself since 
1 8 — ? How have you passed your life ? ' I might, it is 
just possible, with the clear eyes of that angel looking 

5 * 


68 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


into mine, I might show confusion. There ! confound 
the horrible thing ! D’Escourt and I must not meet 
again. D’Escourt and Nancy must have nothing to do 
with each other. My sweetheart and I go to Nice to- 
night and have a right gay time.” 

Rowton, arrived at his destination, secured the last 
sleeping compartment on the train, and went quickly 
back to the Grand Hotel. 

Nancy was waiting for him. 

“ I have not been dull,” she said, her eyes dancing 
with excitement and pleasure. “ M. D’Escourt called : 
I like him extremely; he has only just left. He is 
quite put out at our going to Nice.” 

“You told him that ? ” said Rowton. 

“Yes; why not? Dearest, how thick your brows 
look when you frown.” 

“ I was not aware that I had frowned, sweet Nance.” 

But are you vexed with me for telling him where we 
are going ? ” 

“Not in the least; all the world may know our 
movements. Now let us pack. We will leave some of 
our boxes here, but we must take plenty of your finery 
with us. I intend you to be the most beautiful woman 
at the Casino when we visit Monte Carlo.” 

Nancy began to pull her different beautiful dresses 
out of their boxes. 

Rowton stood and watched her. 

“ M. D’Escourt seems to have been a great friend of 
yours, Adrian,” she said ; “ he has the highest opinion of 
you.” She glanced up at him as she spoke. 

“ He would be sure to praise me to you,” said Rowton 


AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 


in a would-be careless tone. “We will go for a drive 
after ddjeOner; I find that I must get several small 
things on my own account. Are you not hungry, little 
woman ? ” 

“No, I feel too excited to be hungry. You don’t 
know what this life is to me after my starved exist- 
ence; but, Adrian, I am really sorry you missed you 
friend.” 

“Well, I am not,” said Rowton. “On a honey- 
moon one only wants one’s wife, particularly when she is 
such a wife as mine ; but you seem fascinated with the 
fellow, Nancy.” 

“ Only because he praised you so much,” she said, 
with a sweet smile. 

They went down to ddjefiner. 

As they were finishing the meal, Nancy again reverted 
to D’Escourt. 

“He was really disappointed,” she said. “He was 
quite certain we were going to stay in Paris for another 
week at least.” 

“ I have ordered the carriage to be round by now,” 
said Rowton without replying, and glancing at the clock 
as he spoke. “Put on your prettiest cloak and your 
most becoming hat and come out with me.” 

They spent the afternoon shopping and afterwards 
drove in the Bois. By eight o’clock that evening they 
had left the Grand Hotel and were on their way to the 
Gare de Lyon. They reached it in good time to catch 
the Mediterranean express. 

At the booking office Nancy was* much astonished to 
hear her husband ask for tickets for San Remo. 


70 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“You are making a mistake,” she exclaimed. “We 
are going to Nice.” 

“I have changed my mind,” he answered. “San 
Remo will suit us better.” 

“ What a pity,” cried Nancy. “ M. D’Escourt said 
he might visit Nice in a few days.” 

“ The very reason why we go to San Remo, sweet- 
heart. Now take your place. Here we are. You will 
admire the olive woods and the flowers before many 
more hours are over, cara mia^ 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE ROSE-COLOURED BEDROOM AND THE NEW MAID. 

The honeymoon w'^.s over ; the four weeks all of pure 
gold had come slowly but surely to an end. Nancy 
had forgotten much during this time. The look of 
trouble, of anxiety, had absolutely left her face : it 
bloomed into greater and greater beauty in the new 
atmosphere. Rowton, too, appeared to be a different 
man. A great deal of his harshness and roughness 
had left him. He could be polished when he chose. In 
the early days of his life he had only associated with 
gentlemen; he was of good birth, and his natural 
breeding quickly re-asserted itself. 

“You are just like a tamed lion,” Nance was fond of 
saying to him. “ You are so gentle to me ; so courteous 

and kind to everyone, but I know ” 

“ What do you know, sweet wife ? ” he said, clasping 
her round her slender waist and looking into her deep, 


THE ROSE-COLOUEED BEDROOM. 71 

beautiful eyes ; you must not get to know me too well, 
Nancy ; be satisfied with the surface of me, and do not 
penetrate too deep.” 

“Ah!” she said smiling, “you will run yourself 
down ; but I know the deepest and the best of you. I 
leave the shallow part to strangers.” 

“You were going to make a remark about the lion,” 
he said, patting her soft hand ; “so you really think I 
am a roaring lion, my darling ? ” 

“You never roar to me,” she answered; “but that 
you can roar I am firmly convinced.” 

“Capital,” he said with a great laugh; “well, Nancy, 
I hope it will never be your fate to hear one of my 
manifestations. Child, we go back to England to- 
morrow ; are you glad or sorry ? ” 

“ Glad,” she replied. “ I was intensely happy on our 
honeymoon ; oh I what lovely places we have seen ; 
how grand and magnificent the world i$ ! It has been 
sunshine inside and out ever since I gave myself to 
you.” 

“ And yet you want to leave it all and to go home,” 
he said. 

“ I do. I love you so much that to see you at home 
must be the best of all ; to live with you at home must 
be the sweetest of all.” 

“You are mistaken,” he said, but he said it low, and 
the inaudible words never reached his lips. 

“Pack, child, now,” he said. “Our wearisome 
journey begins to-morrow.” 

A day or two later, the Rowtons arrived at Rowton 
Heights in Yorkshire. Nancy had never been in this 


72 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


part of the country, and her excitement and delight 
reached the utmost bounds as they approached nearer 
and nearer to their destination. 

“ You must tell me all about the place ? she said 
when they drove in through the gates of the long wind- 
ing avenue. 

“ Oh ! what are all those people doing ? ” she ex- 
claimed suddenly ; “ they have torches and they are 
coming to meet us.” 

“ Some of the tenants on the estate, I presume,” said 
Rowton. “I expect Maberly, my steward, has been 
getting up a little display. Never mind, Nancy, it is in 
your honour.” 

“In mine,” she said in astonishment; “how very 
sweet of them ! ” 

“I never told you, darling,” said her husband, “that 
in your own house amongst your servants and our 
tenantry, you will take the position of a great lady.” 

“ I ! a great lady ! ” she said ; “ I ! poor little starved 
Nance of the Grange.” 

“ But starved no longer, and the Grange may well 
now be forgotten,” he said. “ I told you that I was rich, 
did T not?” 

“Yes. Have you not proved it?” she said; “why, 
you are made of money ; I never heard of anyone 
throwing money away so lavishly.” 

“ Goodness, child ! you know nothing of what really 
wealthy men can do. Understand once for all, Nance, 
that I am rich, I am very rich. It is my pleasure to give 
you everything that money can buy. I want to make 
your life one long dream of happiness.” 


THE ROSE-COLOUEED BEDROOM. 


73 


“You are doing so,” she said; “but I think in one 
way you make a mistake,” she added. 

“ How ? ” he asked, surprised at her tone. 

“ You think that I want such a lot of money, Adrian. 
In that sense you do not really know me. I like pretty 
dresses, but not too many ; I like pretty jewels, but not 
too many again ; I like the soft things of life, but a little 
of them contents me.” 

“Then I am not making you happy,” he said in 
alarm. 

“ Yes, yes,” she answered : “ but not because of these 
things. You make me happy because you love me, 
because you fill my heart with love, because you give 
me your sweetest and your best in the way of love, and 
because I give you all the love of my heart.” 

“ Sweetheart, you are adorable,” he said, catching her 
hand and squeezing it. “ You must accept the wealth 
and the responsibility it brings, even if you do not care 
for it, Nance, for it is my lot, my portion in life, to have 
more money than I know what to do with. Now, here 
we are. Come, let me introduce you to my housekeeper, 
to the servants. Put on the airs of a grande dame^ 
pretty Nance.” 

She was tall, and very slender. Her neck was some- 
what long and her head was set on it with perfect grace. 
Rowton watched her as she held that small queenly head 
high ; his heart glowed with admiration and love. 

“ She would fill any position,” he said to himself. 
“ Could that curmudgeon, her father, see her now, would 
he know her, my beautiful, lovely darling ? Ah ! I can- 
not corrupt a heart like hers ; she wants a little wealth, 


74 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


and a few pretty dresses, and a few jewels forsooth, and 
— love, love, love for everything else. Will she always 
remain like that ? Heaven grant it.” 

Meanwhile the steward, Maberly, had come up, and 
Mrs. Ferguson, the housekeeper, had presented a bunch 
of keys to Nance. Instructed by her husband she 
gave them back again to the good woman, telling her in 
a sweet voice that she knew far better what to do with 
them than she did. A long string of servants, all neatly 
attired, with white satin rosettes pinned on to their 
dresses, gave deep curtsies as Nance and her husband 
walked down the great hall through their midst. 

** Take Mrs. Rowton to her bedroom at once,” said 
Rowton, addressing the housekeeper ; see that she has 
everything she wants. Have you engaged a good maid 
for her?” 

Yes, sir, a thoroughly experienced girl. She is from 
the village, but was trained in London for a couple of 
years. I have her for a month on trial. Come here, 
Hester, and let me introduce you to your new mistress.” 

“ I am glad to see you, Hester,” said Nancy in her 
cordial voice. 

The girl, a small, dark-eyed lass, dropped a low 
curtsey ; she had keen eyes and they fell all over Mrs. 
Rowton’s beautiful travelling dress. 

“ Run upstairs at once, Hester,” said Mrs. Ferguson, 
the housekeeper ; “ see that the trunks are taken up 
and begin to attend to your duties; go, girl, don’t 
stare.” 

Hester coloured crimson, fixed her eyes again with a 
look half of admiration, half of something else, which 


THE KOSE-COLOUEED BEDROOM. 


76 


Nance did not quite understand, on her face, and turned 
to obey. 

“ I hope you’ll like her, ma’am,” said the housekeeper 
as she followed more slowly with her mistress. 

“ Oh ! yes, she seems a nice girl,” said Nance ; “but 
I have not been accustomed to a maid, and I do not 
really know what to do with one.” 

Mrs. Ferguson looked puzzled. She knew nothing 
whatever with regard to the bride whom Rowton was 
bringing home. Had he really by any possibility married 
beneath him ? 

But one glance at Nancy’s lovely face dispelled this 
illusion. The sweet face stole straight down to the old 
woman’s heart. 

“If Hester does not quite please you, ma’am, you’ll 
be sure to tell me,” she said; “but she seems a clever 
girl, and particularly good at doing hair.” 

“I have always arranged my own hair,” said Nance; 
“but I suppose if it is necessary I must submit.” She 
sighed a little as she spoke. The next moment her sigh 
was changed for an exclamation of delight. 

“ What a lovely bedroom ! ” she said. “ Is this for 
me?” 

“I am heartily glad you are pleased, ma’am,” said 
the housekeeper. “ Mr. Rowton gave instructions 
that this room was to be completely re-furnished. He 
chose those rose-coloured silk curtains himself ; they 
came from London only two days ago. I hope you’ll 
like the whole arrangement. I must say the room does 
look cheerful. This is your dressing-room, and your 
boudoir is just beyond ; these stairs lead to Mr. Row- 


76 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


ton^s dressing-room, and this is the door of the bath- 
room. This complete suite is shut away by these 
curtains and door.” 

“ It is quite a little house to itself,” said Nance; “it 
certainly does look perfect.” 

“ Well, I am pleased,” said the housekeeper. “ Til 
leave you now, ma’am. I see Hester is waiting to 
attend on you.” 

Nance, who was standing in a dream of delight in the 
middle of the lovely room, looked up at these words 
and encountered the dark gaze of her new maid. 

“ What do you want ? ” she asked. 

“ The trunks are in your dressing-room, ma’am,” said 
the girl, “and I am waiting for your keys, please.” 

Nancy pulled them out of her pocket. 

“ Perhaps you will kindly tell me in which trunk your 
evening dresses are, ma’am ? ” 

“I really cannot say,” began Nancy; then she paused 
to consider for a moment. “Oh! I know,” she said, 
“ there is a very pretty evening dress which I can wear 
to-night — grey silk — in the large basket trunk with the 
arched roof.” 

“I’ll have everything ready for you, ma’am, in less 
than a quarter of an hour,” said the girl. She withdrew 
as she spoke, closing the door of the bedroom behind 
her. 

Nance went up to where a fire burned merrily in a 
grate, which was bright with brass and ornamental with 
lovely tiles, and stood warming her feet. The paper on 
the walls was of the faintest tone of rose ; the mantel- 
piece of the purest white marble ; the overmantel and 


THE ROSE-COLOUEED BEDROOM. 77 

all the furniture were ivory white mounted in brass ; the 
window curtains and the bed hangings were of the 
softest shade of rose silk ; no more lovely room could be 
imagined, and Nance, as she turned to survey her 
slender image in the many mirrors which were inserted 
in the walls, could not sufficiently give voice to her 
admiration. Her husband came in while she was ex- 
amining the room. 

“ Ah ! ” he said, “ I see the London people have done 
exactly what I told them. Well, Nance, what do you 
think of our bedroom ? ” 

Perfect,” she answered ; “I never want to leave it.” 

“Heaven forbid !” he cried; “that would mean that 
you were ill, which would never do. I am glad you 
like this room, but wait until you see the rest of the 
house.” 

“ I am almost too happy,” said the girl, and she 
breathed a sigh, the depth of which nearly reached the 
point of pain. 

“What, because you have got a pretty room, little 
one ?” he replied. 

He kissed her and went off to his dressing-room, 
whistling as he went. 

Hester came to summon Nance, and in a few moments 
the young wife found herself divested of her travelling 
things, her hair re-arranged in the most becoming style, 
and her evening dress put on. She scarcely knew her- 
self when she was arrayed for the evening, without having 
lifted a finger on her own behalf. 

“After all a maid is a comfort when one is dead 
tired,” she could not help thinking. Her instinct was 


78 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


to pick up and put by her own things, but Hester, who 
seemed to divine her intention, swept them out of sight 
with an almost peremptory gesture. 

“ You may be sure I’ll do my best to try and please 
you, ma’am,” she said in a soft voice. 

Nance murmured her thanks and went downstairs. 

“ She is a chit of a thing,” muttered the girl when her 
mistress had turned her back. “ I can twist her round 
my little finger, particularly when I make use of some 
very private information, which will considerably alter 
the complexion of things for pretty Mrs. Rowton, or I 
am greatly mistaken.” 


CHAPTER X. 

THE BOY ON THE HEARTH. 

When Nance entered her drawing-room Rowton was 
waiting to receive her. He was standing by the hearth. 
A great fire burned in the grate. Nance, as she entered 
at the extreme further door, saw a picture which caused 
her to give an exclamation of fresh delight ; she looked 
down a long vista of lovely furniture, of knick knacks, of 
small tables, of flowering plants which filled the air with 
a subtle perfume, and saw her husband’s noble figure in 
evening dress as he waited for her. She scarcely noticed 
the dress, but her heart leapt up to receive the smile 
which shone out of the dark eyes and trembled round 
the lips. Then her gaze travelled a step further. Close 
by the man stood someone else — a slender boy, who 
might have been any age from nine to eleven, dressed 
picturesquely in black velvet with a Vandyck collar. 


THE BOY ON THE HEARTH. 


79 


Each feature of his bold dark face was a counterpart 
of the dark face of the man who towered above him ; 
by the boy’s side, the boy’s hand resting on his head, 
was a huge German boarhound, a magnificent creature 
of perfect breed. 

“ I never told you about this young gentleman, 
Nance,” said Rowton, coming forward, and holding 
the boy’s hand as he did so. 

“ Let me introduce you to my nephew, Murray 
Cameron; he has Scotch blood in him. Make your 
best bow to your aunt, Murray.” 

The little chap went forward, giving a low bow. 

Nancy held out her hand. 

“Nonsense,” she said, “you need not bow to me, 
Murray ; I am delighted to see you.” She laid her 
white hand on his shoulder, and bending forward kissed 
him on his brow just w-here his clustering curls met the 
white skin. 

The boy flushed crimson, raised two splendid dark 
eyes and looked full up into her face. 

“ Come, come, Murray,” said his uncle, “ you can go 
back now and continue your attentions to Roy; Roy 
will be jealous ; look how he is sniffing your coat.” 

“ Roy has no reason to be jealous,” said the little 
fellow in a determined, manly voice ; “ he must be a 
very silly dog if he supposes I can compare him to a 
beautiful lady.” 

Rowton burst into a loud laugh. 

“Jove! youngster, you are coming on,” he said; 
“ there, you may go now, in any case ; you may come 
to dessert if your eyes remain open long enough.” 


80 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I am not likely to sleep,” said the boy. He gave 
another glance of the broadest admiration at Nancy, 
and then walked gravely down the room, accompanied 
by the boarhound. 

“ How is it you never told me about that dear little 
fellow, Adrian ? ” said Nancy. 

Rowton rumpled up his hair with a careless move- 
ment. 

** I forgot his existence,” he said briefly. 

“ Forgot the existence of a splendid boy like that ! ” 
said Nancy in astonishment. 

“ Yes, I was occupied with other matters.” 

For some reason which Nancy could not understand 
there was annoyance in his tone. With a woman’s tact 
she hastened to change the subject. ‘ 

“ How lovely this room is ! ” she said ; “ no wonder 
you gave me to understand that you would dazzle me 
some day. I cannot believe that I am really the 
mistress of this house.” 

“ I am glad you like it ! ” said her husband, recovering 
his good humour on the instant. “ Ah ! I think the 
servant has just announced dinner. Come, Nancy mine, 
let me have the pleasure of leading you to the head of 
your table.” 

The dinner passed off somewhat tamely. The dining- 
room was a long and decidedly sombre apartment. But 
the Rowtons sat at a cheerful little table at one end, 
laid with glittering glass and massive plate ; it was 
brought up close to the fire, and was lit by candles with 
coloured shades over them. The rose coloured light 
somewhat softened Rowton’s harsh complexion, and 


THE BOY ON THE HEARTH. 


81 


cast a fairy-like gleam over Nancy with her golden hair, 
pale face and soft draperies. Two footmen waited, 
doing their work noiselessly ; the rest of the room was 
in absolute gloom. 

Nancy could scarcely tell why she felt a sudden 
depression. She would not yield to it, however, and 
struggled hard to keep up the gaiety which she had really 
experienced not a few minutes ago. 

When the dessert was on the table she raised her 
voice somewhat timidly. 

“ May not Murray come in ? she said. “ I should 
like to see him again.” 

“ Tell Master Cameron that dessert is served,** said 
Rowton, turning to one of the footmen. 

They both noiselessly left the room and the husband 
and wife were for a moment alone. 

“ Does Murray live here ? ” asked Nancy of her 
husband. 

“ Yes, this is his home. Now, see that you do not 
spoil him ; he is a fine little chap, but the soft ways of 
a woman about him just now would be his destruction.** 

“You don’t really mean that, Adrian; surely at 
Murray’s age more than at any other time, he ” 

“I differ from you, my love,” said her husband. 
“ Hush ! ” 

He interrupted her words : she glanced down the 
room. Out of the darkness came a high-pitched glad 
voice, a gay laugh followed, and then the flashing of 
bright eyes, the charm of a noble little face, and the boy 
seated himself frankly and confidingly by his new aunt’s 
side. 


6 


82 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I left Roy in the other room,” he said, looking up 
at her ; “ I do not want Roy now.” 

“ Have a glass of wine, Murray ? ” said his uncle. 

The boy held out his glass, which Rowton filled to 
the brim. 

He drank it off and his tongue began to chatter. 

“I am so glad you have both come back,” he said; 
“ I have been awfully lonely ; Mrs. Ferguson is not the 
best company. Now I expect I shall have a right jolly 
time. You are going to live here always, are you not, 
aunt ? ” 

“Listen to me, Murray,” said Rowton; “you are not 
to worry your aunt.” 

“ Oh ! he won’t,” said Nance. She took one of the 
small hands — hard as iron it felt, for the boy was all 
muscle — and patted it softly. 

“We won’t worry each other, will we ?” said Murray, 
glancing up at her again and laughing. 

Rowton gave the pair as they sat thus close together 
— the very fair young girl, for Nance was nothing more, 
and the beautiful dark boy — an earnest, penetrating 
glance. 

“ By Jove ! ” he said, “ I see you are both going to 
fall in love with each other. Take care both of you ; I 
shall begin to be jealous.” 

“Not you, Adrian,” said Nance with a smile. 

“ But he will, though,” said Murray ; “ you don’t know 
him yet, auntie ; I don’t know anyone who can be so, 
so ” 

“ So what ? ” said Rowton. “ Come here this 
minute, lad, and give your aunt an account of me ; she 


THE BOY ON THE HEARTH. 


83 


won’t believe what I say of myself, but you have known 
me for years.” 

‘‘Not so many years,” said Murray. “I am only 
eleven, and that is quite young, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Well, speak, tell your aunt what you think of me.” 

The boy left his seat by Nancy’s side, went up to 
Rowton and leant against his knee. 

“You have a bold face, young ’un,” said the man, 
chucking him under the chin ; “ speak out, you are not 
afraid, are you ? ” 

Afraid,” said the lad proudly, tossing back his head. 
“ I don’t'know what that means.” 

“ That is right ; you are a gay little bantam. Now 
tell that beautiful lady whom you have been impertinent 
enough to fall in love with exactly what you think of 
me, her husband.” 

“You know what I think of you,” said Murray, giving 
the man a very keen and intense glance. Something in 
his gaze, fixed and full as it was, caused Rowton to 
lower his own bold eyes. He caught the boy’s little 
wrist with a grip of iron, and turned him fiercely 
round. 

“ Tell your aunt what you think of me, Murray,” he 
said. 

“ I think you are a very fine man — yes, auntie, he is 
a very fine man indeed, very brave ; about the bravest 
man in the world, I should say, but ” 

“ No ‘ buts,’ young sir, out with everything.” 

“ Then I will tell the truth,” said Murray ; “ you are 
not good in one way.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! Nancy,” said her husband, “listen with all 

6 * 


84 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


your ears now ; this youngster is about to lift the curtain 
and show you the sort of man you have deigned to 
marry.” 

“ Perhaps you can make him good all round,” said 
the boy, suddenly fixing his bright eyes on Nancy’s soft 
face ; “ he is not good all round now — he is not good to 
piy mother , The boy stepped back two or three inches, 
and flung back his beautiful noble head. 

“Silence, this moment, sir,” said Rowton. His voice 
rose \ it seemed to fill the big room. “ Leave the room, 
Murray,” he said. “You have transgressed your limits; 
you have a certain tether and you have gone beyond it ; 
leave the room.” 

“ I will, but I am not frightened,” said the boy. He 
still stood upright with his head flung back, but Nancy 
saw that his delicate lips were trembling. 

“You are cruel to my mother. Uncle Adrian, and 
when I think of it, I — I hate you.” He turned then 
and marched proudly away. 

It seemed a long time to the listeners up at the 
warmly-lighted part of the room, until they heard the 
last echo of his little footsteps, and the banging of the 
door in the dim distance as he walked away; then they 
both looked one at the other. Nancy’s face was white 
and troubled ; tears were in her eyes ; Adrian was look- 
ing full at her. 

“That little turkey cock must be quieted,” he said; 
“ he takes too much on him ; you are not to spoil him, 
Nancy, do you hear ? ” 

“ But what does he mean ? ” asked Nancy ; “ he says 
that you — you are cruel to someone,” 


THE BOY ON THE HEARTH. 


85 


“Come back to the drawing-room with me, sweet 
Nance.” 

Rowton held out his hand ; he clasped Nancy’s with a 
pressure which almost made her cry out ; she bit her 
lips and walked by his side in silence. The drawing- 
room was the picture of comfort; Rowton sank down 
into a deep easy chair, and pulling Nancy towards him, 
seated her on his knee. 

“ Now, my wild bird,” he said, “the curtain begins to 
lift ; what do you think of your Adonis ? do I begin to 
show the cloven hoof?” 

“ No, no, no,” she said, a strangled sob in her throat, 
“ but you frightened me ; why did you roar like that at 
the child ? ” 

“He angered me, the little spitfire,” said the man ; 
“ he has got a spirit that nothing will break.” 

“ But he is you, Adrian, he is you — young. He is 
what you were as a child.” 

“ Faith ! I believe you are right, Nance.* 

“ I wish you had not shouted at him,” she 
continued. “ I hated to see him, and yet I 
loved to see him standing up so bravely under your 
anger.” 

“I told you I was a lion,” said Rowton. “You have 
heard my first thunder. Heaven grant that I may never 
thunder at you, darling. For the rest, by those who 
know me well, by those who know me best of all, I am 
more feared than loved.” 

“No, no,” she said, “I cannot believe it. That little 
chap loves you.” • 

“ But he said he hated me,” 


86 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ He hates you for a cause ; he wants you to be good 
all round.” 

“That I can never be; goodness is mawkish.” 

“ And who is his mother, Adrian, and why, why are 
you cruel to her ? ” 

Rowton grasped Nancy’s wrist again. 

“ Do you really think I am ? ” he said. 

“No, I don’t,” she said with white lips, for his grasp 
was so firm, so fierce, that she could scarcely help 
wincing at the pain. 

It relaxed at her words and his features wore a 
smile. 

“That is good, little woman,” he said; “if you 
believe in me, all the rest of the world may think as it 
pleases.” 

“ But who is the boy’s mother ? ” 

“ My sister.” 

“ And why did he speak in that strange way about 
her?” 

Rowton did not answer for a while. 

“Nancy,” he said then, “this is our first night at 
home, is it not ? ” 

“Yes,” she said, surprised at his tone. 

“Now I am no, going to siy anything harsh.” 

“No,” she answered, “but I don’t think I much mind 
if you do.” 

“ Ah ! my little woman,” he said, suddenly clasping 
her to him in a fierce embrace, “I knew you had a 
spirit of your own : now I am going to remind you of 
something. Do you remember the compact we made 
each with the other on the day of your father’s death ? ” 


THE QUEEN ANNE WING AND GARDEN. 87 

Her face turned very white. 

“ I wish you would not remind me of that,” she said 
after a pause. 

“You force me to,” he replied ; “the time has come 
for me to remind you of it, Nancy ; I shall not in- 
terfere with your secrets if you do not interfere with 
mine.” 

“ Then you have secrets ? ” she said again. 

“Yes, little girl,” he answered — his voice was low — 
there was shame in the tone. 

“ Ah ! ” he said suddenly, “ you would make me an 
angel and worship me as such, but I am a fiend. Do 
not try to know too much; be happy — you can be 
happy, but knowledge would be your death-blow.” 

She sat quite still and did not speak another word. 
In the distance she heard a child’s laughter. 

“Hark to the young cock sparrow — he has re- 
covered,” said Adrian; “nothing depresses him long, 
and nothing can crush him.” 


CHAPTER XL 

THE QUEEN ANNE WING AND GARDEN. 

Nancy lay long awake that night. Her husband slept 
soundly by her side, but sleep seemed determined not 
to visit her ; she was agitated, alarmed, depressed. All 
the glory of that summer moon through which she had 
lived had faded not only into autumn, but into winter. 

What were Adrian’s secrets ? Why was he cruel to his 
own sister ? What was the mystery which hung over 
him ? The burden Nance had herself to carry was 


88 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


quite sufficiently heavy to daunt most women, but just 
at present she seemed to have laid it aside. All her 
thoughts were for Adrian. She loved him more deeply, 
more passionately than ever, but she found herself not 
only anxious but curious. What did he mean by those 
dark hints ? Where she found him angel, why did 
other people think of him as fiend ? Towards morning 
the tired girl fell asleep. She slept until late, and awoke 
to find a snow-covered world, but much comfort around 
her. A fire had already been lighted in her room and 
her maid, Hester, was waiting to attend on her. 

“ Is it late ? ” asked Mrs. Rowton, starting up in bed. 

“Yes, ma'am,” said the girl, speaking in a certain 
prim, respectful voice, which was rather aggravating to 
listen to : “ it is nine o'clock, but Mr. Rowton said you 
were not to be disturbed. Would you like breakfast 
before you get up, ma’am ? '' 

“No, indeed,” replied Nance. “I don't think I ever 
breakfasted in bed in my life ; I will get up now if you 
will leave me, please.” 

The girl raised her brows in some slight surprise. 

“Just as you please, ma’am,” she said. “I have left 
everything in perfect order in your dressing-room, and 
when you ring the bell I shall be ready to arrange your 
hair.” 

Nancy said nothing more and the girl retired. 

“ Why is it I don't take to her ? ” thought Mrs. 
Rowton ; “ she seems a good girl, clever and obliging, 
but she gives me an uncomfortable sensation. Well, I 
need not keep her if she is not quite to my taste, and 
she certainly need not trouble me now.” 


THE QUEEN ANNE WING AN GARDEN. F9 

Nance dressed herself quickly and ran downstairs. 
She did not ring for Hester to arrange her hair. Her 
spirits rose as she dressed, and when she entered the 
room where she and her husband had dined the night 
before, she felt full of excitement and interest. 

Rowton had promised to take her over the house, 
and she was all agog to explore her new home without 
delay. 

The servant who waited upon her told her that his 
master had breakfasted nearly two hours ago ; that he 
and Master Murray were out, but would be in before 
long. 

Nancy had scarcely finished her meal before they 
appeared. 

The boy ran up to her, flung his arms round her neck 
and kissed her. 

“ Have you slept well ? ” he asked. “ I hope you are 
not tired ; there is so much for you to see, and it is so 
interesting. Are you not very curious to see every- 
thing ? 

“ Enough, Murray,” said his uncle ; “ you shall take 
Aunt Nancy round the place this afternoon, but just at 
present she is my property. Run off to your lessons, my 
lad ; T szfw your tutor coming up the avenue just now.” 

“ Bother lessons ! ” said the boy. 

“Are you not fond of study? ” asked Nancy. 

“ No, I hate it ; I can’t think what use tiresome books 
are to anyone.” 

“ Make yourself scarce, chatterbox,” said his uncle 
again. 

The boy laughed and ran off. 


90 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ He is quite a darling,” said Nancy ; “ what a diffe- 
rence he will make in the house.” 

“ I am glad you have taken to him,” said Rowton ; “ he 
is a fine little chap, only you must not let him gossip to 
you, Nance. The boy has a keen vein of curiosity in 
him ; he knows too much or thinks he does. Now, if 
you have quite finished breakfast I will take you 
round.” 

They began their exploration, going from room to room 
and from storey to storey. The house was an old one, 
and as Rowton showed it to his wife he gave her a brief 
history of it. It had belonged to his family for several 
generations, but had been so eaten up by one mortgage 
after another, that Rowton’s own father had declined to 
live in the old place. 

“But is it mortgaged now? ” asked Nancy. 

“ No,” was the brief response. 

“And you are rich, very rich, and your father was 
poor ? ” 

“ Even so, Nancy,” was the somewhat curt reply. 

Nancy glanced up at her husband. His eyes looked 
full into hers ; there was a sort of dare devil gleam in 
them, which she turned away from. 

“ I see,” she said after a pause, “ I must not expect 
you to confide in me.” 

“ Forsooth, no,” he answered; “not on certain topics. 
We two married under a condition ; if there is to be a 
chance of peace between us, we must keep to it. You 
must ask me no questions, my darling ; I on my part 
will ask you none. I frankly admit that there are pages 
in my life which I do not wish you to know anything 


THE QUEEN ANNE WING AND GARDEN. 91 

about, but on the other hand there are fair white pages 
which only you shall read. Are you not content with 
me, Nancy ? 

“Yes, I am,” she answered. “ I love you. I trust 
you too utterly to feel anything but happiness when with 
you.” 

They kissed each other, standing side by side in the 
long picture gallery. Portraits of Rowton’s ancestors 
adorned the walls. There were Holbeins, Van Dycks, 
Gainsboroughs, and Raeburns among them — in short, 
a magnificent collection, which Nancy scarcely knew 
enough of art to thoroughly appreciate. 

“ Fair dames, are they not ? ” asked Rowton, stopping 
under a celebrated Gainsborough as he spoke. “ Ah ! 
now I know whom you reminded me of when you wore 
that Gainsborough hat in Paris ; you have got just the 
face of that Dame Rowton ; just that graceful turn of 
the neck. We will copy that picture for your next ball 
dress ; you will look, as the old saying is, as if you had 
stepped out of the canvas.” 

They both laughed and discussed the picture a little 
longer ; then they walked on to the extreme end of the 
gallery. 

“ This way now,” said Rowton, turning abruptly to his 
left. 

“Why so?” she asked. “Why not go through this 
door ? See ! you must, have overlooked it ; there is a 
door here, and it will take us out into another wing of 
the house.” 

“Not now,” said Rowton. “There is nothing of 
interest in that wing ; come into the old ball-room ; it 


92 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


has been disused for some time, but we will restore it. 
Look ” — he flung open a door as he spoke — “ look at 
this carved oak ; it covers the room from floor to ceiling, 
from ceiling to floor again. This oak is hundreds of 
years old and of enormous value. Will you believe me 
when I tell you that once such a Goth lived in the old 
place that he painted the oak white ? It took a whole 
year to get that paint off ; my grandfather had that done. 
The oak looks nearly as well as ever now. Observe the 
delicacy of the carving. We will furnish this ball-room 
again. What say you, Nancy, shall we give a ball as 
your house warming, after the neighbours have called on 
you.” 

“ The neighbours ! ” she said in so me alarm ; “ are 
people coming to call on me ? ” 

My dear, darling little goose,” was the reply, do 
you think you are going to live here in solitude ? This 
is Saturday, to-morrow will be Sunday. You and I and 
Murray appear in church together — a picturesque group ; 
we sit in the old family pew. On Monday the callers 
begin to arrive. We shall be invited out a good bit, and 
then we will give a ball in this room and you shall be 
dressed as Gainsborough’s Dame Rowton.” 

Nancy laughed; Rowton continued to talk further 
about this idea ; and they strolled out into the grounds. 
It was a lovely winter’s day towards the end of January. 
The pair walked quickly, exploring the different gar- 
dens and pleasure grounds. Suddenly they came 
straight up to a high wall which ran parallel with the 
house. 

“ What is in there ? ” asked Nancy. 


THE QUEEN ANNE WING AND GARDEN. 93 

“ Another garden,” said Rowton in a careless tone. 

“What a heap of gardens,” she exclaimed with a laugh. 
“ I am almost tired of exploring them.” 

“We will return to the house now,” he said; “we 
need not go any further to-day.” 

“ Oh, yes, let me see the inside of this garden. What 
a high wall, and broken glass all along the top ! I can- 
not get even a peep within. I am curious. Is it a very 
old-fashioned garden, Adrian ? ” 

“Yes,” he said after a pause; “ we call it the Queen 
Anne garden here.” 

“ How charming ! Are the trees cut about in queer 
shapes ? ” 

“ Yes. Contorted into foxes and dogs and bears. I 
fancy there is a cock, who looks exactly as if he meant 
to crow, just inside the entrance gate.” 

Rowton^s face wore a quizzical expression. 

“ Where is the entrance ? ” asked Nancy. “ I am dying 
to see the garden.” 

“Not to-day,” replied her husband. He drew her 
hand through his arm. 

They walked on in silence for a moment, then he 
bent down and looked at her. 

“ Are you vexed, little woman ? ” he asked. 

“ I try not to be,” she answered ; “ but it seems a 
simple thing just to show me that last garden. I have 
never seen a proper Queen Anne garden, and this 
one ” 

“ You feel a pin prick of natural womanly curiosity,” 
said Rowton ; “ suppress it, dearest. Now I am going 
to confide in you to a certain extent. I did not mean 


94 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


to, but I see that it is necessary. I have brought you 
to a beautiful home, have I not ? ” 

“Lovely — a palace,” said Nancy. 

“ The whole place is yours,” continued her husband : 
“ the house, the ground, with — with a reservation.” 

“ Yes ? ” she asked, looking up at him with parted 
lips, 

“ With a reservation,” he continued. “ There is a wing 
of the house which you are never to enter. That wing 
looks into the Queen Anne garden — you are, therefore, 
never to go into the Queen Anne garden.” 

“ Never, Adrian, never ? ” 

“Never, darling.” 

“Why so?” 

“ I meant to keep the reason from you,” said Rowton ; 
“ but I must tell it — there is a reason.” 

“Yes ? ” she said again. She began to tremble, 

“You heard Murray speak of his mother last night,” 
continued the man, standing very upright as he spoke, 
folding his arms and looking down at Nancy’s slim 
young figure. 

“ Yes,” she replied. 

“ The boy’s mother lives in that wing.” 

“ What ? ” cried Nancy. 

“ She lives in the wing into which you are never to 
go,” continued Rowton. “She takes exercise in the 
Queen Anne garden. You need not be afraid of her, 
but you are never to see her.” 

“Why, why?” 

“ Because she is mad.” 


SILVER. 


95 


CHAPTER XII. 

SILVER. 

These words had scarcely passed Rowton^s lips before 
he abruptly turned and saw a little man crossing the 
lawn to meet him. 

“ Scrivener ! by all that is unpleasant/* he muttered 
under his breath. He turned to Nancy who, very white 
and frightened, stood by his side. 

“ Go into the house now,” he said ; “ go up to your 
room and unpack your things, or sit by the fire in the 
library and enjoy a right good read of one of the many 
novels which are scattered about I want to speak to 
that man who is coming across the lawn.” 

“ Who is he, Adrian ? ” 

“A devil,” said Adrian. “Go away; he is not to 
see you.” 

She turned abruptly at his words. His tone com- 
pleted the trembling at her heart; she tottered rather 
than walked into the house ; she was full of fear and 
misery. 

Rowton, without even glancing after her, went to meet 
his unwelcome guest. 

' “ Now, what has brought you here ? ” he asked. 

“ Ah ! I expected you would take that sort of air 
when you returned to your property,” said Scrivener. 
“The whole thing was a mistake, and I told Long John 
so. And so that young lady is the angel of your life ? ” 


96 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I forbid you to mention her name. What is your 
business here to-day ? ” 

“To bring you a message,” said Scrivener, favouring 
Rowton with a long and steady glance. “ You have had 
your five weeks; the end of your tether is therefore 
reached ; you belong to us now, and we have something 
for you to do.” 

“ I doubt not that you have,” said Rowton. 

“Yes, there is some important business waiting for 
you. Can you return with me to town this after- 
noon ? ” 

Rowton looked both disturbed and annoyed. 

“ Does Long John want me so soon ? ” he asked. 

“He wants you to-night. We have an important 
meeting at our club to-night, and it is absolutely necessary 
that you should be present.” 

Rowton stood quite still, a frown between his thick 
brows. Presently it cleared away. 

“ I am at your service,” he said. 

Scrivener was evidently relieved at this sudden ac- 
quiescence. 

“That is a good thing,” he said. “I was com- 
missioned to bring you with or against your will. When 
you submit to the inevitable you make things far easier 
for us. I’ll get straight back to Pitstow Station and 
take the next train to town. The meeting is appointed 
for eleven o’clock to-night — you’ll be sure to be there ? 
You won’t play us false ? ” 

“No, I shall come up to town by your train. Go, 
Scrivener, I don’t want people to see you about.* 

“ As you please,” said the man ; “ but I expect 


SILVER. 


97 


folks round here will have to get accustomed to me. 
I am thinking of taking lodgings in the neighbourhood.” 

“You are not ?” 

“ Yes, I am. The air is wonderfully bracing, and I 
have been feeling rather pulled down lately. Well, good- 
day, I am sorry, sir, you have not got a job for me on 
the premises.” 

These last remarks were made in a servile tone, and 
for the benefit of an under-gardener who was seen 
approaching. 

Rowton nodded. Scrivener turned on his heel and 
disappeared. 

“Come here,” said Rowton to the gardener. He 
walked with him across the lawn, gave him some 
directions with regard to the moving of several plants, 
and then sauntered slowly into the house. 

He went into the library, where he hoped to find 
Nance. She was there; she had seated herself in a 
chair in front of a great fire ; a book lay open on her 
lap, but she was not reading; with the tears undried 
on her cheeks, she was fast asleep. She looked weary, 
almost ethereal, in her sleep. Rowton looked at her 
fair face with a great pang at his heart. 

“Poor lily flower,” he murmured; “she looks as 
unfit as girl could look to stand the storms of this 
troublesome world, and what storms she may have to 
encounter with her lot linked to mine. Heaven only 
knows. But there, perhaps I wrong her, there is, I 
sometimes think, muscle as well as weakness under all 
that delicate womanly charm. Poor little girl I shall I 
go away without telling her, or shall I tell her? No, 

7 


98 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


I won’t shirk the nasty things which I undertook when 
I married one like her — she must bear her burden — 
Heaven knows I want to make it light to her. Yes, I’ll 
tell her.” 

He went up to Nancy, knelt by her side, put his 
arms round her, and gently transferred her head from 
the sofa cushions to his breast. The movement, light 
as it was, awakened her. She opened her eyes, saw 
him looking down at her, and smiled at first dreamily 
and happily. 

“ Where am I ? ” she asked. “ I thought I was back 
at San Remo — I remember now, I am at home, and you 
are with me.” 

“ I am glad you have had a sleep, Nance,” said her 
husband in a matter-of-fact voice. “Now I have some- 
thing to say which is not quite pleasant.” 

“ What is that ? ” she asked. 

She started up and pushed her hair from her brow. 

“I remember everything now,” she repeated the 
garden which I am not to see, and the poor afflicted 
lady, and the dreadful man who walked across the grass.” 

“ The man has gone, dearest. I trust you may not be 
troubled with him again — in any case he has nothing 
whatever to do with you.” 

“Then what unpleasant thing have you to tell me, 
Adrian ? ” 

“ Only that I must leave thee, sweetheart.” 

“ Leave me, leave me ? ” she asked, her face turning 
very white. 

“ But not for long.” Rowton bent forward and kissed 
her lips. “ Only for a a few hours at the worst. That 


SILVEE. 


man brought me a message which makes it imperative 
for me to go to town to-night. In fact, I am leaving 
almost immediately — I shall take the very next train 
from Pitstow. If my business is happily concluded I 
shall be back in time to go to church with you to- 
morrow, if not ” 

“ Why do you say ‘ if not ^ ” she asked. “ Is there 
any fear ? ” 

“ No, none really. Of course there is a possibility 
that I may not return in time for church — in that case, 
you will go with "Murray; be sure you go, Nance, 
whether I am with you or not. Now I have not a 
moment to spare. 

Rowton walked across the room and rang the bell. 
When the servant appeared he gave orders that his dog- 
cart was to be brought round in a quarter of an hour. 
He then prepared to leave the room. 

“ Let me come with you and help you to pack,” said 
Nancy. 

“ To be sure, little woman, come along,” he said. 

He took her hand ^nd they went upstairs together. 
They passed through the beautiful bedroom into 
Rowton’s dressing-room. He thrust a few things into 
his Gladstone bag, then turned and took his wife in his 
arms. 

“ How much I must love you,” he said, “ when I feel 
it horrible even to part for a few hours.” 

“ Can I not come with you ? ” she asked suddenly ; 

why should not I go to London with you this after- 
noon ? ” 

“ No, darling, it is best not. I shall have to leave you 

7 * 


100 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


at times, sweetheart, and we must both get accustomed 
to the thing. Now I must say farewell. I’ll soon be 
back. Adieu, darling, adieu.” 

Rowton ran downstairs, and Nancy watched him from 
the window of the dressing-room as he drove rapidly 
away. 

He arrived at Pitstow Station a moment before the 
train was starting. He saw Scrivener pacing up and 
down the platform, but neither man, by word or glance, 
recognised the other. Rowton travelled first-class to 
town — Scrivener third. In due course they arrived at 
King’s Cross, when both men again went their several 
ways. Rowton drove to a small hotel in the neighbour- 
hood of the Strand. It was a comfortable, cleanly place, 
but very unpretending and plain. He ordered some- 
thing to eat and then went out into the Strand. He 
amused himself buying one or two trifles for Nancy. 
He then went to his club, the Shelton, where he 
smoked a cigar, and chatted with two or three men, 
who were all delighted to see him again. He invited 
several of his friends to stay at Rowton Heights, and 
altogether was much cheered by his time at the club. 

“ Lucky for you, Rowton, to be back in the old place 
once more,” said Charlie Danvers, a gay young Guards- 
man. Rowton had been at school with him. 

“ Wish I could clear off all my mortgages, and come 
in for my own,” said another man, whose name was 
Halliburton. 

“ I have heard a lot of your diggings, Rowton,” said a 
third ; “ the best place in the county ; shall be delighted 
to. accept your invitation. What time did you say ? ” 


SILVER. 


101 


ril write and fix a date,” said Rowton after a pause. 
“ My wife and I mean to give a ball, but we must wait 
a little until the county magnates have time to call. I’ll 
want as many of you good fellows as will honour me 
to come down for the great occasion. I mean to do 
something with the hunting next season, but it is rather 
late to think much of that this year. The ball, however, 
is a different matter. You’ll all come for the ball, won’t 
you?” 

Three or four promised, and Rowton made notes in 
his engagement book. 

It was about ten o’clock when he left the club. He 
hailed a hansom then, and drove straight back to the 
quiet little hotel off the Strand. When he got there he 
went upstairs, changed his hat for a round one of some- 
what shabby make, put on a light overcoat and came 
down again. 

“ Going out, sir ? ” said the landlord, who was stand- 
ing in the halL 

“ Yes, for a bit,” said Rowton. 

The man noticed the change of dress and made no 
remark — many of his guests were out all night; he 
supplied them with latchkeys, and never sat up for 
them. 

“ A latchkey, sir ? ” he said now to Rowton. 

“ Thanks,” replied the owner of Rowton Heights in 
a nonchalant tone. He slipped the key into his pocket, 
and the next moment found himself again in the Strand. 

He took another hansom and told the man to drive 
him as far as the Chelsea Embankment. It took about 
half an hour to get there. He got out just by the 


102 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Embankment, paid the driver his fare and walked 
slowly on, bearing straight to his right all the time. By- 
and-bye he found himself, still almost within sight of the 
Embankment, but in a low part of Chelsea. He went 
down several by streets, being remarked by those who 
glanced at him by reason of his height and a certain up- 
rightness of carriage which, try as he would, he could 
never get rid of. It was Saturday night, near midnight, 
and the place was all alive — barrows in the streets, 
hawkers everywhere, people* buying and selling, children 
screaming, women arguing and gesticulating, good, hard- 
worked housewives hurrying home with well-laden 
baskets, drunken men staggering across the- streets. 
Rowton passed quickly through their midst. The place 
smelt horribly. The air was heavy with the odours of 
stale fish and rotting vegetables. 

‘‘ Contrasts,” muttered the man to himself. “Rowton 
Heights last night, Nance in her silver-grey dress, the 
old ancestral home — all the ‘ noblesse oblige ’ of long 
descent surrounding me and tingling in my veins ! To- 
night, the slums, and I no stranger in them ! ” 

He muttered an oath which scarcely reached his lips, 
but filled his heart with intolerable bitterness. He left 
the glaring street with all its light and noise, and turned 
abruptly down a dark passage. The next moment he 
had knocked with his knuckles in a peculiar way on a 
certain door. The door was cautiously opened by a girl 
in a dirty dress with a towzled fringe reaching to her 
eyebrows. 

“ Who is there ? ” she asked. 

“ Silver,” was the reply. 


SILVER. 


103 


“Oh! Silver, thank Heaven you have come,” she 
answered. 

“ Hush ! don^t speak so loud,” said Rowton in a low 
voice. “ How are you, Sophy — pain in the back any 
better ? ” 

“No, sir, I suffers awful still,” answered the poor 
slavey. “ Glad you are back, sir ; don’t think I can stay 
much longer.” 

“ Oh ! yes, you can — here is a sovereign to put in 
your pocket.” 

“ Bless you, sir, bless you. Silver,” the girl murmured 
as she stifled back a sob. She slipped the coin into her 
mouth for greater safety, and abruptly turned to walk 
upstairs. 

“ Are they in the old rooms ? ” asked Rowton. 

“ Yes, sir, ten of ’em strong.” 

“ Then you need not come. I can find my own way.” 

He bounded past her three steps at a time, opened a 
door without knocking and found himself in a long low 
room, which was now reeking with tobacco smoke and 
the fumes of whisky. Several men were stationed about 
the room, some sitting, some standing, some were 
smoking short pipes, some indulging in cigars, some 
were doing neither. There was a certain expectancy 
about all their faces, and when they saw Rowton it was 
more than evident that this expectancy was realised. 
They welcomed him with cheers ; said, “ Hullo, Silver, 
glad to see you back,” and motioned him forward into 
tkeir midst. 


104 


A SON OF ISHMAEU 


CHAPTER XIII. 

LONG JOHN. 

Rowton nodded to one or two, and then going straight 
to the other end of the room, where a man was seated 
by a desk, bent down over him. 

“ Here I am,” he said ; “ you have sent for me. I 
am in a great hurry, as I want to take an early train 
back to Pitstow. What’s up. Piper? Why did you 
require me to come in such a hurry ? ” 

The man addressed as Piper raised himself slowly 
and fixed two steady, luminous grey eyes on the 
speaker. He had an extraordinary face, with a certain 
marked power about it. The lips were very hard, but 
the eyes were tender as those of a woman. The face 
itself was long and extremely narrow — the brow high, 
with scanty hair which receded far from the temples ; 
it was perfectly clean shaven, and was emaciated as 
well as long and thin. Even as the man looked full at 
Rowton, a hectic colour came and went on his cheeks. 
He was small and slenderly built, and why he went by 
the name of Long John would have puzzled a stranger 
to account for. At a first glance one would have 
taken him for an insignificant and somewhat effeminate 
person ; but a second, revealing the pathos and beauty 
of the eyes, would not have failed to arrest attention, 
and a third glance from an observer of human nature, 


LONG JOHN. 


105 


would have revealed the fact that the man possessed a 
strange and powerful personality. 

“Now that you have come, you must listen to our 
business,” said Long John. “We have waited for five 
weeks to consult your pleasure — there is a good deal now 
to attend to. Are you there. Scrivener ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Scrivener, answering to his name. 

Piper rose from his seat by the desk where he was 
carefully making notes, lifted a flap, slipped the notes 
under it, locked the desk and came forward into the 
centre of the room. 

“Now, gentlemen,” he said, “now that Silver has 
come back, there is nothing to prevent our beginning the 
business of the evening.” 

“No, nothing,” said several voices. “ Right glad to 
see you again. Silver.” 

Several signs then passed between the parties ; certain 
instructions were read aloud by Long John, and com- 
mented upon in a terse, quick, eager voice by Scrivener. 
Two or three of the men fell to whispering, and one, 
who had seated himself close to Rowton, bent forward 
and said in a tone of almost affection : 

“ I feel comfortable and safe, now that you are going 
to be at the helm again.” 

All this time Rowton was silent. Not that he lost a 
single word of what was going on — he was acquainted 
with all the ciphers — he knew the mysterious allusions. 
A sort of jargon was spoken which was not Greek to 
him. Still, he never opened his lips, although, after a 
time, he noticed that Long John constantly raised his 
lustrous eyes and fixed them on his face. 


106 


A SOK OF ISHMAEL. 


Suddenly that individual turned round and addressed 
him. 

“ Marrying at the time you did,” he said, “you put us 
all to the height of inconvenience. We lost that busi- 
ness in Spain by which we hoped to have secured 
enormous profits. You are a strong man, you give 
weight and solidity to all we do, and we cannot dis- 
pense with you. You were aware of the fact when you 
made that audacious demand for five weeks off duty. 
You have now returned to duty, and I presume will 
work extra hard for the privilege we have accorded 
you.” 

“ Thanks,” said Rowton. “ I belong to you, and I 
shall, of course, do my best for the interests of the 
business.” 

“That’s right,” said Long John after a pause. “The 
fact is, you have come back in the nick of time — that 
affair in Spain can, I find, be re-opened. Bonds to the 
tune of ^ 20,000 are to be conveyed from Madrid 
to Paris by train on the night of the 20th. Spider 
will meet you in Madrid. How soon can you go 
there ? ” 

Rowton started and looked troubled. 

“ Before I make any promises,” he said after a pause, 
** I wish to say something on another matter.” 

« What is that ? ” 

“ I wish to ask a favour.” 

“ A favour, Silver,” said Scrivener. “ You seem great 
at that sort of thing lately.” 

“ This matter is of much importance to me. Piper,” 
said Rowton, fixing his bold eyes on the meagre face of 


LONG JOHN. 


107 


the other man. “ I want the headquarters of our school 
to be removed from Rowton Heights.’' 

This demand was evidently most unexpected. The 
different men looked at each other with blank faces. 
Scrivener shook his head, leapt forward and whispered 
something in the ears of the man known by the name 
of Long John. 

“ It is quite impossible, Silver, and the matter cannot 
be further discussed,” said Piper in an incisive voice, 
which sounded like the snapping of steel. 

His eyes changed their character as he spoke. They 
no longer looked gentle and pathetic > rays of light, cruel 
as hell itself, seemed to leap from their depths. 

‘‘Impossible,” he said; “ not to be discussed. The 
place is absolutely convenient — above suspicion, and 
therefore invaluable. So no more. Your request is un- 
equivocally refused.” 

“ I must bow to the inevitable,” said Rowton, slightly 
bending his head. 

“,Your marriage came at a most inconvenient time,” 
proceeded Piper; “ but now that you are married and 
have elected to live at Rowton Heights, we all see our 
way to doing magnificent business. In your position 
as one of the wealthiest and most influential men of 
your county, you can give us information which will 
be more than useful. I will speak to you a while on 
that point. Meanwhile it is my wish that Scrivener 
should go and live at Pitstow. There is a village there, 
is there not ? ” 

“ A small town,” said Scrivener ; “ a healthy, bracing 
place. I need change of air.” 


108 


A SON 01 ISHMAEL. 


The other men laughed. Rowton remained pale and 
silent. 

It would be particularly disagreeable to me to 
have Scrivener in the neighbourhood,” he said after 
a pause. 

“ He may be useful,” said Piper. ‘‘ He is to take 
lodgings at Pitstow next week. Now that affair is 
settled for the present. How soon can you start for 
Spain ? ” 

“ When must I go ? ” 

If you have arrangements to make at home we can 
give you until Monday to make your plans.” 

“ Thanks,” said Rowton. He rose as he spoke. 

“ You will come here again on Monday night? ” 

‘‘I will.” 

“ Then come with me now into this inner room. I 
have something to say with regard to your duties as 
landlord and country gentleman.” 

A queer expression crept over Rowton’s face ; the 
healthy colour went out of it; it grew grey and death- 
like in hue. He followed his strange host without a 
word. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE butler's pantry. 

Nancy spent an almost sleepless night, and awoke the 
next day with a headache. She got up earlier than 
usual, and went downstairs. Murray was waiting for her 
in the hall — as usual, the boarhound, Roy, accompanied 
him. 


THE BUTLEK’S PANTRY. 


109 


“ Roy wants to make friends with you, auntie,” said 
the child. “ Come, Roy, come forward, do allegiance.” 

The dog turned his eyes on the bright childish face, 
then he walked straight up to Nancy, lay down at full 
length at her feet, and tried to lick her shoe with his 
tongue. 

“There, you belong to us now,” said Murray, de- 
lighted. “ Is not Roy wonderful ? I whispered all that 
to him this morning. He seems to understand almost 
as if he were a person. It is so nice to think that 
there are three of us all of one mind — you, and Roy, and 
I. I know I shall be awfully happy at Rowton Heights 
in the future.” 

“ Come to breakfast now, Murray,” said Nancy, hold- 
ing out her hand. 

He clasped it in his and danced into the breakfast 
room by her side. 

“This is Sunday,” he said presently, giving her a 
glance, as bold and direct as Rowton’s own. 

“ Yes,” replied Mrs. Rowton. 

“ Sunday means church. Are you going to church ? ” 
asked the child. 

Nancy remembered Rowton’s wish on that subject. 

“ I don’t want to,” she said, “ for my head aches ; but 
all the same I shall go.” 

“ That is awfully brave of you,” replied Murray. “ I 
am delighted, for I always have to go, and I have to sit 
in that dull old square pew by myself. I hope, auntie, 
now that you have come to Rowton Heights, you will 
get the Rowton pew altered, and made like everybody 
else’s. It is so dull not to see the congregation.” 


110 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“Is the pew so high as all that?” asked Nance. 

“Yes; if you sit down — I mean if you happen to be 
a child — you are quite lost to the congregation. Per- 
haps you will be seen, and perhaps you will see, for you 
are tall. I like tall girls. I shall marry a very tall girl 
when I grow up.” 

Nancy could not help smiling. The boy’s chatter, the 
gaiety of his sweet, high laugh, the look in his eyes, ever 
and always reminding her of Adrian, gave her more 
pleasure than she knew. 

“I see we shall be capital friends,” she said, looking 
at him affectionately. “ We’ll often talk together of that 
tall girl whom you are to marry. Now come out into 
the grounds ; a little of the fresh air may take off my 
headache.” 

They walked about for some time, and then a beauti- 
fully-appointed carriage being brought round, Nancy ran 
upstairs to put on her bonnet and mantle, and she and 
Murray drove to church together. 

After all, Rowton did not come back in time to go 
with them. Nancy’s heart sank within her. She did 
not want to face the eager and curious congregation 
without him. Her life had been so solitary for such a 
number of years that she was often affected by almost 
painful shyness — she felt queerly shy now, and quite 
trembled as she walked up the little church. A verger 
went before her, opened the family pew with much 
ceremony, and ushered in the bride and Murray 
Cameron. Murray had very quick perceptions. He 
seemed to guess all that Nancy was feeling — accord- 
ingly he sat close to her, seeming to take possession 


THE BUTLER’S PANTRY. 


Ill 


of her. He found her places for her, and saw that 
she was accommodated with a comfortable footstool ; 
now and then his eyes fixed themselves on her lovely 
face; when he saw that it looked pale and sad, he 
slipped his little hand into hers. 

The service was about half way through, when the 
pew door was suddenly opened, and, to Nancy^s surprise, 
and indescribable delight, Rowton came in. He just 
glanced at her and then seated himself at her other 
side. His face looked perfectly serene and contented. 
Nancy’s face now shared the look of apparent happiness 
which was seen on his. All her depression vanished on 
the instant — she felt comforted, soothed, blissful. He had 
gone away, but he had come back again ; the first separa- 
tion was over ; how full of delight were the joys of re- 
union ! 

After church Rowton stopped to speak to one or two 
friends. He introduced Nancy to an old lady with a 
kindly face, and beautiful grey hair. 

“This is my wife. Lady Joyce.” 

Lady Joyce favoured Nance with a piercing and yet 
kindly glance. She held out her hand cordially. 

“ I am delighted to see you, Mrs. Rowton,” she said. 
“I hope to have the pleasure of calling on you to- ' 
morrow. It was a good day for us all when this young 
man married and elected to bring his bride back to 
Rowton Heights.” 

Rowton smiled and said something in a light tone. 
His remark, of a trivial nature, amused the old lady ; 
she laughed in a very hearty way, shaking her sides as 
she did so. 


112 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ Ah ! you always were a sad dog,” she said. “ Don^t 
forget that I have known you since you were as tall as 
that little lad,” pointing to Murray as she spoke. 
“ Mrs. Rowton, I’ll have plenty of tales to tell you of 
that good husband of yours when we get better 
acquainted — so you had better keep in my good graces, 
young man, for you were a pickle when you were 
young.” 

The good lady hobbled off to her carriage as she 
spoke. Rowton helped her in, and presently Nance, he, 
and the boy, returned home. 

The rest of the day passed without anything special 
occurring. Rowton and his wife took a walk together. 
In the evening they sat in the library and Rowton told 
her stories with regard to several of the books. He 
never alluded to the sorrow which he knew was waiting 
for her the next day. 

“Time enough,” he said to himself; “I need not 
leave here till three o’clock in the afternoon — there is a 
train at three-thirty which will take me to King’s Cross 
in sufficient time. Let me see, I need not tell her to- 
night, nor will I tell her to-morrow, until after lunch ; 
we’ll have what happiness we can. After all it may be 

all right, and I may come back safe and sound, or ” 

he paused in his own thoughts. A picture rose up 
before his eyes. He saw himself a corpse, shot through 
the heart — such an event was more than probable. He 
knew that he was going into grave danger — that, 
in very truth, he was about to carry his life in his hand. 

“No matter, but for her,” he said to himself. “ I am 
sick of the whole thing, and to die fighting would be 


THE BUTLER’S PANTRY. 


113 


the heart of my desire ; but I cannot leave her to face 
what may any moment be before her. No, I must court 
caution this time — I must avoid risks. Her happiness 
must come first with me — her happiness ! Ah ! Nance, 
what are you looking at me so earnestly for ? 

“I see you are not reading,” said Nancy, flinging 
down her own book. 

“ No more I am,” he replied. “ Come and sit on 
my knee, little woman. By the way, I have a piece of 
work for us both to morrow.” 

“ What is that ? ” she asked. 

“ I want us to overhaul the family plate.” 

“Have we much plate? ” asked Nance. 

“ Have we much plate ? ” he answered, mimicking her 
tone ; “ something like three or four thousand pounds^ 
worth I should say.” 

“ Adrian ! ” 

“ Well, wait until I show it to you to-morrow. My 
grandfather was celebrated for collecting plate. A good 
deal of it was mortgaged when my father got into diffi- 
culties, but we managed to rescue almost the whole of 
it. I want to have it all out to-morrow, for I have 
ordered a special safe of a peculiar make to be sent down 
from town. Of course there are several men servants 
in the house; but it is not well to have such a lot of 
plate unless perfectly secured. I have ordered a safe, 
however, which would baffle the efforts of the most 
accomplished burglar in the world. Now let us talk no 
more about it. If you are not tired, I am. Remember, 
I was up the whole of last night — suppose we go to 
bed.” 


8 


114 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I am so sleepy that I can scarcely keep my eyes 
open,” said Nancy. 

“ All right, come upstairs.” 

The night was over, and the next day, immediately 
after breakfast, Rowton and Nancy, accompanied by 
Mrs. Ferguson, the housekeeper, went to the butler’s 
pantry, where a show of magnificent plate was arranged 
for them to view. 

“ This is not all by any means,” said Rowton, running 
his eyes over the articles as he spoke. “ Where are the 
gold-plated things ? I don’t see them.” • 

In this chest, sir,” said Mrs. Ferguson. 

“ Open it, pray. I want Mrs. Rowton thoroughly to 
understand in what her property consists.” 

The chest in question, a very heavy one, which was 
standing on the floor, was opened by a curious 
mechanism of keys which completely puzzled Nance. 
Its contents made a dazzling show ; gold-plated spoons 
of every size and shape, forks, large and small, dessert 
knives and forks; in short, a complete assortment for 
the requirements of a good-sized party stood revealed 
before her. 

“See,” said Rowton, taking up one, “these spoons 
have all got the Rowton crest on them, and just where 
the crest ends, a ruby of great value has been intro- 
duced. They are unique of their kind and are un- 
doubtedly almost priceless.” 

“ Heaven preserve us, sir,” said Mrs. Ferguson; “I 
often tremble in my shoes when I think of the plate that 
is in this house. Why, it would tempt any burglar in 
the land. I say to Vickers, ‘ Vickers, never show this 


THE BUTLER’S PANTRY. 


115 


chest to any of the young footmen — you never can tell 
what friends they have outside.’ That was why I did 
not open it, sir, until your good lady and you were in 
the room.” 

“ Quite right, quite right,” said Rowton ; “ it would, 
as you say, never do to let this kind of thing get abroad. 
I have often half an idea to transfer this chest to the 
bank at Pitstow ; but on second thoughts, what is the 
use of having pretty and valuable things if we do not 
use them ? Now then, Mrs. Ferguson, open the secret 
spring of the safe and bring out the jewel case.” 

“ If you have no objection, sir. I’ll first of all lock the 
pantry door and draw down the blind.” 

“ As you please, my good soul ; but you don’t suppose 
that burglars are about at this hour ? ” 

“ No, no, sir, of course not, but it’s best to make all 
safe.” 

Rowton stood very upright, with an inscrutable smile 
on his lips which Nancy remembered by-and-by, as Mrs. 
Ferguson locked the door, and drew down the Venetian 
blind. The room was now in semi-darkness, but there 
was plenty of light to see the brilliancy of the magnifi- 
cent diamond necklet, which he presently lifted out of 
its velvet case. 

“ Here,” he said to Nance, “ this is yours.” 

“ Mine ? ” she answered, her colour coming and 
going. 

“ Yes, yours — you shall wear it at the ball. There 
are heaps of other things, but I flatter myself that the 
necklet has scarcely its second, certainly not in the 
county, and perhaps not in the kingdom. I’ll give you 

8 * 


116 


A SON OF ISIIMAEL. 


its history some day. Ah ! it could tell several tales if 
it could but speak ! Here are rubies — magnificent, are 
they not ? ” 

“Yes, yes,” said Nancy; “how they shine, they seem 
to fascinate me.” 

“ Jewels of such value often have that effect on 
people,” said Rowton. “What is the matter, Mrs. 
Ferguson ? You look quite scared ! ” 

“ I never knew those things were here,” said Mrs. 
Ferguson. “ It’s a-tempting of Providence — they ought 
not to be in the house, that they ought not. It’s enough 
to frighten me into leaving my situation.” 

“ What ! you would leave us ? ” said Rowton. 

“ No, no, sir, you know I would not ; but to have 
diamonds and rubies like those ! why, they flash so it 
is enough to tempt one. There’s something awful un- 
canny about them. Oh ! I don’t say that they are not 
beautiful ; but they look like evil eyes fastening on one 
— they ought not to be here, sir, in a lonely country 
house — they ought not, really.” 

“ I agree with you, Mrs. Ferguson,” said Rowton, 
“and I shall take measures to have all this valuable 
plate and these jewels properly secured. This old safe, 
strong as it looks, is practically of no use at all. I have 
ordered another down from town. It will arrive to- 
morrow or the next day, accompanied by several ex- 
perts, who will give you, Vickers, Mrs. Rowton, and 
myself, the cipher of how it is worked. No one will 
be able to open the safe who does not understand the 
cipher.” 

“ Then, sir,” said the housekeeper, “ I beg to say at 


THE BUTLEHS PANTRY. 


117 


once, that no consideration on earth will make me learn 
it. I’d rather lose a thousand pounds than know how 
to open that safe.” 

“ Nonsense, woman,” said Rowton, the colour coming 
into his face as he spoke. “ I think that will do now. 
Put the jewels back again, and the gold plate and the rest 
of the things. They have lain here for many a month, 
not to say years, and they may well stay here in safety 
for a few days longer. Now come along, Nance mine, 
I want to take you to the stables. Do you know any- 
thing about riding ? ” 

“ I used to ride when- 1 was a girl, and when we lived 
in Harley Street,” said Nance. 

“Ah ! true,” he said, linking her arm in his and draw- 
ing her away from the pantry. 

Vickers, the butler, was standing outside. He was an 
elderly man, stoutly built, with a good-natured and good- 
humoured face. 

“ Go into the pantry and help Mrs. Ferguson put 
away the plate,” said his master. 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the man. 

He disappeared immediately, and Nancy and her 
husband went out of doors. 

“ I forgot,” he said, “ that up to the age of — how old 
were you, Nance, when you left Harley Street?” 

“ Fifteen,” she replied. 

“ Up to the age of fifteen you had all the things which 
rich girls possess.” 

“ Yes, all,” she answered, tears springing suddenly to 
her eyes. “The best home, the best father, the most 
loving mother ” she bit her lips and could not go on. 


118 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


She had a vision before her at that moment of Anthon/s 
splendid young strength, of his courage, his nobleness. 
She knew now of whom Murray reminded her. He was 
** like Rowton in feature, but, in heart and mind, he was 
Anthony’s counterpart. 

Rowton glanced at her face and guessed something 
of her thoughts. 

“Sweetheart,” he said with a certain gravity which 
was full of sweetness ; “ I see that as far as possible, I 
must banish memory from you. You must live, my 
beloved, in the glorious present, and forget all those 
shadows of your early youth.” . 

“ But why forget its sunshine ? ” she answered. 

“Yes, you must even forget its sunshine,” he re- 
plied ; “ for that sun of long ago casts a deep shadow 
on you now.” 

“ It does,” she answered, “ it does.” 

“You will try to forget it ? ” 

“ I will,” she replied. 

They reached the stables, and he showed her a 
thoroughbred mare, spirited, obedient to a touch, gentle 
as a lamb, with a mouth like silk, and a coat which 
shone like the brightest satin. 

“ Ho ! Bonny Jean,” said her master. The creature 
raised its perfect head — it had a whijte star on its fore- 
head — whinnied in some excitement, and thrust its nose 
into Rowton’s hand. 

“ This is your mistress. Bonny Jean,” said Rowton 
again. “You must resume your riding lessons, 
Nancy,” he continued. “ Murray can sit any horse 
that ever was broken in, or unbroken in for that 


THE BUTLER’S PANTRY. 


119 


matter, and when I am not here, he must accompany 
you — you must ride a good bit. After a little practice 
you’ll be able to follow the hounds.” 

“ And you,” she answered, “ which is your horse ? ” 

He showed her a beautiful hunter, which went by the 
name of Peregrine. 

“ These two make a perfect pair,” he said. “ We’ll 
have many a good canter on their backs. By the way, 
I must order a habit for you. I will the next time I go 
to town.” 

Nancy did hot reply. 

The happy morning passed all too swiftly. Lunch 
was scarcely over before the sound of wheels on the 
gravel proclaimed the first of the visitors who were 
calling to pay their respects to the bride. 

The lady who drove up now was one of the 
characters of the neighbourhood — her name was Lady 
Georgina Strong. She drove herself, and stepped 
lightly down from the high dog-cart, throwing the reins 
as she did so to her groom.' 

Rowton and Nance were standing on the steps of the 
beautiful old house when she appeared. 

“Welcome to Rowton Heights,” said Rowton, taking 
off his hat and advancing to meet her. 

She held out her hand to him, and favoured him 
with a frank and scrutinising glance. 

“ How do you do ? ” she said in a brisk, high voice ; 
“and so this is the baby — come here, baby, and be 
introduced.” 

In some astonishment Nancy ran down the steps. 

Lady Georgina gazed at her out of two dark bright 


120 


A SON OF .ISHMAEL. 


eyes, which were rendered more intensely brilliant by 
means of her pince-nez, 

“ Ah ! ” she said, “ you are a pretty, fair little girl — 
no wonder you bowled him over. I was curious to see 
what sort of a woman could take that fortress. I 
have known him for close on twenty years — off and on, 
that is — and I never yet, poke as I would, pry as I 
would, search as I would, discovered that he had the 
vestige of a heart. Where did you find it, my dear — 
under the fifth rib, eh ? 

Nancy laughed, but without much cordiality ; she did 
not understand this dashing dame. Rowton, however, 
seemed to enjoy her badinage thoroughly. 

“Come in,” he said, “come in. You have arrived 
in the nick of time. You always were the most good- 
natured woman in the world. Lady Georgina, and I 
trust to your kind clemency for the present moment.” 

“ Anything that I can do for you, my good friend, 
you are more than welcome to,” she answered. She 
walked on with him — he led her into the largest of the 
drawing-rooms. Nancy followed slowly, Rowton 
glanced back and saw her at some little distance — she 
had stopped to speak to Murray, and to caress Roy, 
who was fast becoming her slave. 

“ One moment,” said Rowton abruptly, turning and 
speaking with eagerness. “ I am obliged to leave that 
child in less^^than half an hour. I am going away.” 

“ One of the mysterious absences ? ” she asked. 

He nodded. 

“ Will you be good to her until I come back ? ” he 
whispered. 



“ How do you do ? ” she said, in a brisk, high voice. 

— Page ! ig. 



LEAH. 


121 


There was no time to add any more. 
“I will, I will,” said Lady Georgina. 
Nance came up to them. 


CHAPTER XV. 

LEAH. 

Nance could read faces very quickly. 

“ What is the matter ? ” she said, looking at her 
husband. 

He hesitated for a moment. It seemed cruel to tell 
her before Lady Georgina ; but after all it might be the 
best way, 

“ I was telling this good old friend of mine,” he said, 

that I am obliged to leave Rowton Heights in a few 
minutes. I was asking her to be good to you during 
my absence.” 

Nance had a good deal of pride, and also much latent 
strength of character. Had ’Rowton given her this 
information when they were alone, she would probably 
have cried and fallen on his neck ; now she only turned 
very pale, drew herself up until her slender but stately 
height gave her new-born dignity, and said in a gentle 
tone : 

Thank you for thinking about me. I did not know 
you were going away. Shall you be back to-morrow ? ” 

“ Plucky darling,” said Rowton under his breath. 
Aloud he said : “ I shall be away for a few days. I will 
write to you from town.” 

“ And where are you going ? ” she asked in a curiously 
steady tone. 


122 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I will let you know from town.” 

“ But are you going soon ? ” she asked again. 

“ In five minutes, dearest.” 

“ The'n,” she answered, “ I had better ring the bell to 
order the dog-cart round.” 

“If you’ll be so kind, Nance,” he replied. 

She went across the room and pressed the button of 
the electric bell, then she walked to one of the windows 
and stood looking out. 

“ I admire this view very much, don’t you ? ” she said 
to Lady Georgina. 

“ It is one of the most superb views in the county, 
Mrs. Rowton,” said that good lady, marching up to 
Nancy’s side. 

“I will help her out — she has stuff in her,” thought 
the lady. “ By the way,” she said, turning abruptly 
to Rowton, “ what do you think of that mare I chose 
for you ? ” 

“I was just showing 'her to Nancy,” said Rowton, 
smiling and looking relieved ; “ she is perfect.” 

“You would say so if you saw her pedigree. Now, 
Mrs. Rowton, I propose to call here early to-morrow 
morning to take you out for a ride. Without conceit 
I can say of myself that I am one of the most accom- 
plished horsewomen in the county. Will you be ready 
for me by nine o’clock ? ” 

“ So early? ” asked Nance. 

“ So early ! ” exclaimed Lady Georgina ; “ I am often 
on horseback at seven o’clock. Ah ! and you might 
bring your husband’s little nephew with you; that boy 
rides splendidly — he has no fear in him.” 


LEAH. 


123 


Nancy did not reply. The sound of wheels was heard 
on the gravel. 

“ There is the dog- cart,” she said, looking at Rowton. 

“So it is,” he answered — he looked at his watch — 
“ and time for me to be off too. I see they have put 
the luggage on. Good-bye, Lady Georgina, a thousand 
thanks. Good-bye, little woman, expect to hear from 
me from town.” 

“Good-bye, Adrian,” said Nancy. Her voice felt like 
ice, but her heart was on fire. 

Rowton took her in his arms and pressed her to his 
breast; his lips met hers passionately, his eyes, bold 
and yet full of subdued anguish, looked into hers. He 
turned abruptly, the door sounded behind him, and a 
moment later the crunching of wheels on the gravel be- 
came distinctly audible. 

“ I would not overdo it,” said Lady Georgina, looking 
at Nance. 

“ Overdo what ? ” she answered somewhat proudly. 

“Well, you know you feel horribly lonely without 
that good fellow. I never saw anything more plucky 
in my life than the way you subdued your feelings and 
let him go away without a murmur, but you need not 
mind me — I am the soul of frankness — the essence of 
openness. I always say what I think and show what I 
feel. You can copy me. It strikes me, by the way, 
that you and I are going to be friends.” 

“I hope so,” said Nancy. 

“I know it, that is, if you will have me. I am a 
good friend, Mrs. Rowton, and. a very nasty enemy. 
You may as well take me as a friend, will you ? ” 


124 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“You are Adrian’s friend, and you shall be mine,” 
said Nancy. 

“That is right. Now, look here, child. I am not 
going to leave you to your own miserable feelings for 
the rest of the day. I know that good man you have 
married fifty times better than you do.” 

“I can scarcely allow you to think that,” said 
Nancy. 

“ Oh ! tut, tut, of course, I don’t mean the love- 
making side of him. He never would make love to 
anybody, although half the girls round the Heights 
h^d a try for it in the old days ; but I know a side of 
him that you do not know. He is restless, he is 
essentially a rover — a gay rover, we all call him here. 
You must get accustomed to his vanishing in the 
peculiar way he has just vanished — he will come back 
as suddenly; without the least warning, any day or 
any hour the sunshine of his presence will once more 
light up the house. Now, come for a walk in the 
grounds — and, oh ! by the way, pray invite me to 
dinner.” 

Nancy could scarcely forbear from smifing. 

“ Will you stay ? ” she asked. 

“ Scarcely a cordial invitation,” said Lady Georgina, 
biting her lips and smiling; “all the same I shall 
accept it. If you will excuse me. I’ll just go and speak 
to my groom ; he can take Dandy round to the stables. 
I need not send for a dinner dress, need I ? ” 

“Oh, no; stay as you are,” said Nance. She felt 
slightly stunned, but Lady Georgina’s presence forced 
her to rouse herself. 


LEAH. 


125 


They went into the grounds. The day was sunshiny, 
and the first signs of spring began to be apparent in 
some delicate buds of green which were coming out 
on the ribes and other of the hardiest shrubs. As 
they walked side by side, Lady Georgina kept up a 
flow of small talk. She was a woman of considerable 
character, although at first sight she appeared to be 
nothing but froth and frivolity. She had a kindly and 
sterling heart. She knew more about Rowton than he 
had any idea of, and she pitied Nance from the bottom 
of her heart. 

“ How pretty she is ! ” she said to herself. “ Anyone 
can see that she is madly in love with that handsome 
lion. Poor child, what will her future be? If my 
suspicions are correct, what chance has she of lasting 
happiness? Well, I like her husband, whatever his 
failings, and I am going to like her.” 

Accordingly Lady Georgina put out her really great 
powers, and before long Nance had submitted to her 
charm. They walked about for over an hour and 
then came in to tea. Afterwards Nance took her guest 
up to her bedroom. 

Hester entered to attend to the ladies. When she 
had withdrawn Lady Georgina spoke about her to 
Nance. 

“ I know that girl,” she said ; “ her name is Hester 
Winsome. She used to be one of my favourite pupils 
in the village school. She went off to London when 
she was fifteen. I have heard things of her since, 
which were not absolutely in her favour. Why have 
you engaged her as your maid ? ” . 


126 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“I do not know anything about it,” said Nance. 
“Mrs. Ferguson brought her to me on the night of my 
arrival. She told me she was a girl from the village who 
had been thoroughly trained in London.” 

Oh ! I don’t doubt the training,” said Lady 
Georgina. “ I think she got a start when she saw me — 
she pretended not to recognise me. Frankly, I don’t 
like her.” 

“Nor do I in my heart,’’ said Nancy; “but she is 
very attentive and clever.” 

“ Clever ! too clever,” said Lady Georgina. “ Don’t 
let her pry into your secrets.” 

“My secrets — I have none,” said Nance. Then she 
paused and coloured crimson. She remembered the 
great secret which pressed upon her day and night. 

“ Why do you get so red, child ? ” said Lady 
Georgina. “You say you have no secrets, but your 
face says you have. Now, don’t tempt me. If I have 
a fault, it is curiosity, inordinate curiosity. I never 
betray a friend, and once I know the truth I never 
question, and never, never pry ; but until I know 
the truth I am — well, I cannot help it — troublesome. 
Don’t show me a little, Nance Rowton, for if you do I 
shall poke out all.” 

“ I am sure you won’t,” said Nancy — “ you are too 
much of a lady.” 

“■Now, was there ever such a snub ! ” said Lady 
Georgina, tapping her foot somewhat impatiently on 
the floor as she spoke. “ Child, you are quite refresh- 
ing. If you speak in that frank way to everyone else 
you will bowl all the county over ; but I hear wheels — 


LEAH. 


127 


more visitors — come along down and I will help you to 
entertain them/’ 

Until quite late in the afternoon, until the winter’s 
day had faded into dark, Nance and Lady Georgina, or 
rather Lady Georgina herself, entertained the county at 
Rowton Heights. 

Each neighbour with the least pretensions to gentility 
hastened to pay respect to Rowton’s fair bride. 

“You must begin to return all these visits in a few 
days,” said Lady Georgina. 

“ I cannot until Adrian comes back,” said Nance. 

“ Oh ! nonsense, you must manage to lead an interested 
and happy life apart from that husband of yours.” 

“ No, I won’t,” said Nance proudly. 

“ Oh ! you won’t. You will sing a different tune 
after a time. I tell you, Mrs. Rowton, he has got his 
own pursuits, and he will follow them to the death in 
spite of you or twenty girls like you, and you’ll die of 
ennui if you have not your own individual interests. 
You must begin to return these calls by the end of the 
week, and then invitations will pour in. If Mr. Rowton 
is at home he will go with you, if not, you must go by 
yourself or with me. I shall be delighted to chaperone 
you to any extent.” 

Nance bowed her head somewhat wearily. A good 
deal of Lady Georgina’s gay chatter was scarcely 
heard by her. She admitted all the kindness, but her 
heart was sore, and she longed indescribably to be 
alone. When the good lady at last took her leave, 
Nancy could not help giving vent to a sigh of relief 
Soon afterwards she went upstairs to bed. 


128 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


On the way to her own room, just outside the door 
she came face to face with her maid, Hester, who was 
talking to an elderly woman, with sandy hair and a 
broad freckled face. The woman had straight lips, a 
jaw of iron, and pale light blue eyes. She was dressed 
very neatly, but not in the dress of an ordinary servant. 
Her hair was tightly braided and she wore it perfectly 
smooth. 

“Well, good night, Leah,” said Hester, as Mrs. Rowton 
appeared on the scene. 

The woman called Leah favoured Nancy with a pro- 
longed and undoubtedly curious stare. 

“ Good evening, ma’am,” she said ; then she dropped a 
curtsey and disappeared down a passage. 

“ Who is that ? ” asked Nancy of Hester. 

“She is the caretaker of the poor mad lady,” replied 
Hester. 

“ Then what is she doing in this part of the house ? ” 

“ She was only talking to me about her charge, Mrs. 
Rowton. She says that poor Mrs. Cameron is very 
queer to-night, and Leah wanted to know if I would go 
and help her to sit up with her.” 

“Well, of course you won’t, Hester,” said Nance. 
“I do not know anything about the case, but you 
surely want your night’s rest, and I am sure Mr. Row- 
ton ” 

“ Oh ! ” said Hester, with a toss of her head, “ Mr. 
Rowton would not interfere with a thing of this sort. 
Leah does want help at times, for Mrs. Cameron is 
terribly violent. Indeed, I cannot make out why she 
is not put into an asylum like other mad ladies,” 


LEAH. 


129 


“It is not your business to discuss that question,” 
replied Nance. 

“ Of course not, ma’am, and I am sorry I forgot my- 
self.” Hester spoke in a subdued voice; she turned 
her back on Nance, who did not see the angry and 
vindictive flash in her eyes. “ Shall I take down your 
hair now, ma’am ? ” she asked, speaking in a tone almost 
of servility. 

“ Thank you, no, I prefer to wait on myself to-night.” 

“ As you please, ma’am. I have left everything 
ready and comfortable in your bedroom. You are quite 
sure you would not like me to help you to get into 
bed?” 

“ Quite sure, thank you.” 

“Very well, ma’am, then I think with your permission 
I’ll go to Leah ; I am not at all nervous with the insane, 
but Leah, strong as she looks, gets quite overpowered at 
times.” 

“ But surely Leah has not the care of Mrs. Cameron 
by herself?” asked Nance. The words were almost 
forced from her, for she had the greatest dislike to dis- 
cussing the matter with Hester. 

“ Oh 1 yes, ma’am, I assure you it is so — those two 
always sleep alone in the Queen Anne wing. After all, 
it is only occasionally that it is necessary for Leah to 
have assistance. Well, Til go to hei now — I like to be 
good-natured.” 

“ Good night,” said Nance. 

“ Good night, madam ; I hope you’ll sleep well.” 


9 


ISO 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE LADY IN THE WOOD. 

True to her promise Lady Georgina arrived at nine 
o’clock the following day o take Nance for a ride. 
They had an hour and a half cf vigorous exercise, and 
Mrs. Rowton returned home with spirits raised in spite 
of herself. A letter from her husband awaited her — 
it was dated from a big London hotel and was written 
late the evening before. She seized it, opened it 
eagerly, and with eyes full of passionate love and 
anxiety, devoured the contents. The letter was short, 
and although every word breathed affection, there was 
little or no information to be obtained from the hurried 
scrawl. 

“ I am leaving England, Nance, for a short time,” 
wrote her husband. “ I cannot give you any informa- 
tion with regard to where I am going. In short, my 
darling must make up her mind to do without hearing 
from me for a few weeks. I know this is hard on you, 
Nance, as it also is on me. The fates are bitterly hard 
on us both, but we married, did we not, accepting the 
position, and we must now endeavour to make the best 
of things. Unexpectedly some day I shall be again at 
your side. Meanwhile, believe that I am well, very 
well; believe that I will take all possible care of my- 


THE LADY IN THE WOOD. 


131 


self, for your sweet sake; believe also, that all my 
heart is yours — my best thoughts are yours. Good-bye, 
my angel. 

“ Your loving 

“ Adrian. 

“P.S. — Do not mention to anyone that I am out of 
England for a time. You can say, if questioned, that I 
am detained on business in town.’* 

“No, I won’t tell a lie,” said Nance to herself 
proudly. 

She did not add any more. Even with her own 
anxious, beating heart, she refused to commune over 
the contents of her letter. A flush burned on either 
cheek, her eyes grew bright, with the brightness which 
often precedes tears, but no tears came to them. She 
read the brief letter over twice, then folded it up and 
slipped it into her pocket. 

As she did this she noticed that Murray had come 
into the room, that he had observed her action, and 
that his bold eyes, so like her husband’s, were fixed on 
her face. 

“ Don’t look at me like that, Murray,” she said with 
a note in her voice which sounded like a sob. 

For answer the boy sprang to her side. 

“Cry if you want to, auntie,” he said. “I know 
you want to. That letter was from Uncle Adrian, was 
it not?” 

“ Yes, Murray.” 

“ And he told you that he must be away from home 
for a little ? ” 

9 * 


J32 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“Yes, dear. We won’t talk of it now.” 

“ But why not ? ” said Murray. “ Why not talk of it 
to me ? You see I am accustomed to the sort of thing, 
Aunt Nancy; when I was young, quite a little fellow, 
I had a mad, passionate feeling for Uncle Adrian, and 
when he went away as he has done now and would 
give no address, I used nearly to go wild. I used to 
stray off all by myself and have a terrible time. But 
by-and-by, I saw it was foolish to make myself ill. He 
always came back again, and I was glad, very glad, to 
see him. I thought him perfect then,” concluded the 
boy. 

“And you don’t think him perfect now?” said 
Nance. 

He looked full at her, shut up his lips and was silent. 

“I think you perfect,” he said after a long pause. 
“Don’t fret too much. Aunt Nancy; but if you do 
fret, talk about it all to me, for though I am a boy in 
years, some things have happened — yes, they have 
happened here at beautiful Rowton Heights — which 
have turned me into a man. There are times when I 
think I am almost an old man, for I feel quite a weight 
of care, although, of course, I don’t talk of it. Don’t 
keep your grief too much to yourself. Aunt Nancy, and 
be sure of one thing — that Uncle Adrian will come back. 
Some day he’ll walk into the room. He’ll just whistle as 
he knows how, and open the door and come in, and 
then it will be all sunshine.” 

“You are a dear little chap,” said Nancy, bending 
forward and kissing him. 

He flushed when she did sq, 


THE LADY IN THE WOOD. 


133 


“I love you so much,’* he said enthusiastically. 
“Now I am the man and I shall look after you. Have 
you eaten anything since you had your ride ? ” 

“No; I had breakfast quite early and I am not 
hungry.” 

“ But that will never do. You must have some wine 
and a biscuit. Uncle Adrian would wish it. Of course, 
he intended me to take great care of you. It must have 
been an awful comfort to him to feel that I was about 
when he had to leave you. I know where the wine is — 
ril go and fetch it.” 

He ran off and returned in a moment or two with a 
glass of port and a box of biscuits. 

Nancy drank off the wine and felt all the better. 

“ Now you are to come out with me,” said the boy. 
“ I have planned our day. My tutor, Mr. Dixon, is not 
coming at all to-day. Uncle Adrian said I might have 
two days’ holiday in order to look properly after you, 
and won’t we have a good time of it ! Are you up to a 
long, long walk ? ” 

“Yes, anything,” said Nance. “Anything is better 
than the house.” 

“ Of course it is, and the day is so lovely. Well, 
come along, we’ll make for the Rowton Woods. The 
road is all uphill, remember. You will be pretty dead 
beat by the time you get there. Suppose we take some 
luncheon with us ? ” 

“ Yes, that will be capital,” said Nancy ; “ much 
better than coming back to a stately lunch here.” 

“ Oh 1 much better,” answered Murray, with a gleeful 
laugh. “ 1*11 run and order sandwiches and a basket of 


134 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


grapes. Stay where you are, auntie; I’ll be with you 
soon.’’ 

Half an hour later the pair started off. Murray 
carried the grapes, and Nance the basket of sandwiches. 
They looked like two children as they crossed the 
grounds, passed through a stile, and found themselves 
in a low-lying meadow which led to the opening 
which by-and-by was to bring them into the famous 
Rowton Woods. In spite of her grief, in spite of the 
fact that her husband’s letter, his mysterious letter, lay 
in her pocket unanswered because it was impossible 
for her to answer it, Nancy’s spirits rose. Her little 
companion was too healthy and charming not to exercise 
a beneficial effect over her. Soon his gay laughter 
evoked hers, and Nance found it possible to endure life 
even though Adrian was away. 

“ I wish, Murray,” she said, as presently they turned 
their steps homeward, “ that you and I might have the 
Heights all to ourselves. I should never be lonely if I 
had plenty of your society.” 

“ I love to hear you say that,” answered the boy. 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” laughed a voice in their ears. 

The sound seemed to come from the ground beneath 
them. They turned instinctively and saw a lady seated 
under a large tree. She was dressed somewhat pecu- 
liarly in a a neat little bonnet and mantle of old-world 
cut, and a black alpaca dress. She wore cotton gloves, 
and although it was winter and the sun was about to set, 
held a parasol, made of some light fancy silk, over her 
head. 

Nancy first thought that this peculiarly-dressed woman 


THE LADY IN THE WOOD. 


136 


was one of her neighbours. Murray touched her arm, 
however, and when she glanced at him, she was forced 
to draw a different conclusion. His handsome little face 
had turned deadly white. 

Go on, auntie,” he said in a whisper. “ Don’t be 
a bit frightened. Just go on quite quietly through the 
wood. I’ll follow you in a moment.” 

“ But who is that lady, Murray ? ” 

“My mother,” answered the boy. “I must speak to 
her. I am not a bit afraid.” 

“ But I am — it is not safe for you to be alone, I won’t 
leave you,” said Nancy, her voice shaking in spite of 
herself. 

“ Ha ! ha ! what a nice little conversation you two are 
having,” said the eccentric-looking lady, rising to her 
feet as she spoke and going towards Nancy. You are 
frightened, my pretty girl, although you try not to show 
it. Well, perhaps you have cause. I know very well 
that there are times when I am very dangerous. At 
times, too, I have got unnatural strength. But it so 
happens that to-day I am in a quiet and tractable 
mood.” 

“Let me take you home, mother,” said Murray. 
He ran up to her side and laid his hand on her 
arm. 

She shook it off with a sudden fierce gesture. 

“Don’t touch me,” she shrieked; “you are the boy. 
It was on account of you I got into all that trouble. I 
won’t speak to you ! I won’t look at you ! Get out of 
my sight — go, at once ! ” 

Her eyes, hitherto quiet, and, although somewhat 


1S6 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


wandering in their expression, intelligent enough, began 
to blaze now with a fierce and terrible fury. 

“Go, Murray,” said Nancy; “go quickly back to the 
house. Your presence excites your poor mother. No ; 
I am not frightened now. Go, dear, no harm will 
happen to me.” 

“ Yes, go, Murray Cameron,” shrieked his mother. 
“ I don’t want you about. When I look at you, mis- 
chievous, wild, uncontrollable thoughts come into my 
head. Run away, child — get out of my sight as quickly 
as you can. I have come here on purpose to speak to 
this young lady, and I won’t be foiled by twenty little 
chaps like you. Go away, go at once.” 

Nance nodded her head emphatically to the boy. 
He glanced from the mad to the sane woman, and 
then turning abruptly, walked down the hill. When 
he had gone a little distance he slipped behind a tree 
and waited with a palpitating heart for the issue of 
events. 

The moment he was out of sight, Mrs. Cameron 
strode straight up to Nance and laid her hand on her 
arm. 

“ Look at me,” she said. 

With an effort Nancy raised her frightened eyes. 

“I have no reason to dislike you,” said the mad 
woman, “ and you need not fear me. I am anxious to 
have a right good stare at you, though. I am devoured 
with curiosity about you.” 

“ Well, here I am,” said Nance. 

“Here you are, indeed. What a finicking sort of 
voice you have, and your face, although pretty, is not 


THE LADY IN THE WOOD. 


137 


worth much. Perhaps I am wrong though — you have 
an obstinate chin — I am glad you have an obstinate 
chin. You may possibly have strength of character. I 
hate people without strength of character.” 

As she spoke, the woman placed her hand under 
Nancy’s chin, raised her face and looked full into it. 
Her dancing wild eyes scanned each feature. Presently 
she turned away laughing again. 

“ I do not hate you,” she said ; “ after all, you are 
harmless — you cannot interfere with me. I hate your 
husband, though, and I hate Murray Cameron.” 

“ But Murray is your child,” said Nancy, shocked. 

“ He is ; but he has interfered with me, and I hate 
him. It was after his birth I went off my head. Have 
I not good reason to dislike one who did me an injury 
of that sort ? I loved the boy’s father. Pah ! what am 
I talking about ? Love was my undoing. Yes, I have 
had a strange history. I’ll tell you my story some day, 
Mrs. Adrian Rowton. You must come and see me 
some day in the Queen Anne wing.” 

“Well, let me take you home now,” said Nance in a 
soothing tone. 

“ You have quite an agreeable way of speaking ; and 
as you are not related to me by any blood ties, I am 
willing to be civil to you. Call out to that boy to get 
out of my sight — I know he is hiding behind that tree 
yonder. You are perfectly safe — I would not hurt a_ 
hair of your pretty head. But he is different.” 

“ Go home, Murray,” called out Nance. 

He gave a low whistle in answer, and they heard his 
footsteps vanishing down the hill. 


138 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


** Now that is right,” said the mad woman, breathing 
a sigh of relief. “ Now I can really talk to you. Would 
you like to know why I am not confined in an asylum ? 
Would you like to know why I am kept in that dull 
Queen Anne wing ? You could not guess the reason, 
but I will tell it to you.” 

“ You shall some day,” said Nancy ; “ but now let me 
take you home.” 

“ I will tell you before I go. I have followed you on 
purpose to tell you. Do you know what you did when 
you married Adrian Rowton ? ” 

“ Made myself very happy,” said Nancy in a faltering 
voice. 

** So you think, you poor goose. Do you know what 
Adrian Rowton is ? ” 

“ I would rather you did not tell me.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! you are frightened, my pretty little dear. 
That good husband of yours is away from home and he 
won’t give you his address. Ha ! ha ! he says he will 
come back again unexpectedly, does he not ? Ha ! ha ! 
ha! Well, so he will. Now you ask him a question 
when he returns — ask him what goes on in the Queen 
Anne wing at night — in the cellars, I mean. There are 
big cellars under that part of the house — ask him what 
they are used for. Ask him, too, why his mad sister is 
not put into an asylum ; why she is used as a — ha I ha ! 
— a blind — ha ! ha ! ” 

“Now, madam, what nonsense this is. Come home 
this minute. You shall suffer for this conduct.” 

A strong voice rose on the air, firm steps were 
heard approaching. The poor mad lady glanced round 


CEOSSLEY. 


139 


with a wild expression; suddenly she clung close to 
Nance, 

“ Save me, save me ! ” she gasped ; that is Leah^s 
voice. At times she is awfully cruel to me. Sometimes 
she beats me. Oh, save me ! ” 

The poor creature’s voice rang out on the air with a 
wild scream. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

CROSSLEY. 

The woman whom Nance had seen the night before 
came forward with quick strides. 

“ None of this folly, Mrs. Cameron,” she said in a 
powerful voice. “Leave that young lady alone this 
minute, or you know perfectly well what will^ happen. 
Now take my arm. You have disobeyed me and you 
know you must be punished.” 

The miserable creature seemed to shrink and collapse 
into herself. She gave Nance a piteous look. 

Nance’s kind heart was immediately touched. 

“ Do not be hard on her,” she said, speaking to Leah ; 
“ she really meant no harm. She came out on purpose 
to see me. She was curious, I suppose — it was perfectly 
natural, was it not ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, that is it — it was perfectly natural,” said 
the mad woman. “You hear her, Leah, she said I 
meant no harm. I only came out to tell her what she 
ought to know. For instance — the cellars.” 

“ Hold your tongue this minute,” said Leah. “ If 
you’ll have the goodness, madam,” she continued. 


140 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


addressing Mrs. Rowton, to leave us now, I think I 
can take Mrs. Cameron home quietly. She was excited 
last night and is not quite herself. Of course, you 
know well enough, that anything she may tell you is not 
of the slightest consequence.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! Leah, you know better than that,” laughed 
Mrs. Cameron, Her laugh was so wild that it was 
blood-curdling. 

“ Good-bye,” said Nance in a kind and steady voice. 
She held out her hand, and the mad lady seized it in a 
fierce grip. 

“I like you — I love you,” she said. “Yes, yes, even 
I — even I can love, and I love you — you are a sweet 
little girl. I’ll be your friend. Be sure you come to 
me when you really want a friend. Good-bye, good- 
bye, pretty little Mrs. Rowton.” 

She turned as she spoke, and Nance walked away 
through the wood. She had been biave enough during 
the interview, but now she trembled exceedingly. She 
felt suddenly quite weak and faint. When Murray dis- 
covered her, she was leaning against a tree too exhausted 
to proceed on her walk. 

The boy’s eyes were red as if he had been crying, 
but when he saw Nance a smile flitted bravely across 
his face. 

“ Oh ! don’t think about me,” he said. “ I am so 
glad you are safe. Of course, you got a fright — you 
are not accustomed to this sort of thing. I am — I 
mean there have often been scenes like this one, and 
mother has said dreadful things of me. It is rather 
hard to hear your own mother speak of you like that, 


Crossley. 


141 


IS It not ? but I know she does not mean it — it is just 
her awful affliction. I love her very much. There is 
nothing I would not do for her. She has been very 
badly used, but I will not go into that now. May I 
ta ke you home ? ” 

“Yes, Murray, I am dreadfully tired,” said Nance in 
a faint voice. 

Murray gave her his shoulder to lean on. 

“ Lean hard,” he said ; “ I am a splendid stick.” 

By and-by they reached the house and Nance went 
away to her own room. She lay down on her bed and 
made a great effort to shut away all thought. This was 
by no means easy. There was much to think about — 
much to puzzle and perplex her. Her husband’s 
mysterious absence ; the near vicinity of the poor insane 
lady ; the strange words which the lady had used : “ I 
am here as a blind. Ask Adrian Rowton what goes on 
in the cellars at night.” What did it all mean ? What 
could it mean ? Nancy’s heart beat with great throbs — 
she felt excited and terribly overwrought. Her adven- 
tures, however, were by no means at an end. She was 
just falling off into a restful doze, when the door of her 
bedroom was softly opened, and her maid, Hester, ad- 
vanced across the room on tiptoe. 

Nancy’s antipathy to this girl was decidedly on the 
increase, and she now raised her head and spoke almost 
irritably. 

“ What is it, Hester ? ” she said. 

The girl approached the bedside with alacrity. 

“I just came in to find out whether you were asleep 
or not, madam,” she said. “I am glad you are awake, 


142 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


for there is a man downstairs. I suppose he is a gentle- 
man, but I cannot say. Anyhow he has called to see 
you. He said I was to tell you that Mr. Crossley was 
below.” 

‘‘ Crossley,” said Nance with a start. She sat up in 
bed. A queer look came into her eyes. 

“ When did he call ? ” she asked the girl. 

“ Half an hour ago, ma’am, I believe. Vickers has 
shown him in the library. He said he would wait your 
convenience.” 

“ Go to Vickers and tell him to say to Mr. Crossley 
that I will be with him in a few minutes,” replied Nance. 

The girl left the room, walking with her usual abso- 
lutely noiseless tread. 

“ Mr. Crossley,” murmured Nance. 

All her depression left her on the moment. Her 
thoughts were completely turned into a new channel. 
Since her father’s death she had lived in a dream of 
excitement, of adventure, of golden bliss. It was true 
lurid lights were coming into this dream of hers ; but the 
subject of all her young life hitherto had been banished 
from view. Now she remembered it with a pang and a 
thrill — a pang of deep pain and self-reproach, a thrill of 
excitement. She thought of her father when he lay dying. 
She remembered the mission which had been given to 
her. Her promise to her dying father was abundantly 
recalled by the mere mention of Crossley’s name. 

She had taken off her dress, but she soon replaced it. 
She brushed out her beautiful hair, gave one glance at 
herself in the long mirror and ran downstairs. 

Nance knew Crossley, the detective — she had often 


CROSSLEY. 


143 


seen him before. During the six years she had lived 
with her father at the Grange, he had come to see them 
as a rule three or four times a year. At each interview 
she had been present. It was perfectly true that she and 
her father had indeed stood side by side in their intense 
eagerness to track the man who had sent Anthony to an 
early grave. She was with her father now, heart and soul. 
Her beautiful eyes shone as she entered the library. 

“ Mr. Crossley, I am glad to see you,” she said. 

Crossley, a stout middle-aged man, with grizzly hair 
and bushy whiskers, came out of the recess of one of the 
windows. He made a low bow to the mistress of 
Rowton Heights. 

“ I thought it best to call, madam,” he said. “ Since 
the letter which you wrote to me announcing Dr. Follett’s 
death, I have been actively pursuing inquiries, and with, 
I believe, a certain measure of success. In short, I am 
now in possession of facts which can really lead to the 
ultimate discovery of ” 

“ Hubert Lefroy ? ” interrupted Nance. 

“ Yes, or the man who called himself Hubert Lefroy.” 

“You are certain, then, that the name is a feigned 
one ? ” 

“ I am positive; but do not say the word so loud— 
there may be listeners about.” 

“ Oh ! no, that is impossible,” said Nance, but she 
glanced nervously behind her back as she spoke. “I 
am very glad you came,” she said; “sit down, won^t 
you ? My husband is away from home at present.” 

“ I am aware of that fact,” answered Crossley. 

“ Are you ? How did you find out ? ” 


144 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ In the usual way, madam. When I take up a case 
of this kind I employ emissaries all over the country, 
and nothing takes place with regard to my clients’ 
movements that I am not acquainted with. Your 
father’s strange case has, as you are aware, Mrs. Rowton, 
occupied my best attention for many years. During his 
lifetime, owing to the absence of almost all clues, we 
have been unsuccessful in bringing matters to an issue. 
But since his death unexpected developments have taken 
place, and these I may as well own have startled me 
considerably. I must repeat the words which I have 
already uttered — I am, I believe, in a position to lay my 
hands on the man who murdered your brother.” 

“ Then why don’t you do it ? ” said Nancy. “ This 
excites me very much,” she continued. She rose as she 
spoke, tugged at the neck of her dress as though she 
felt her breathing a little difficult, and then crossed the 
room to one of the windows. 

“ You understand my position,” she said after a pause. 
“ I am my father’s representative. It is my painful duty 
to carry out this search to the bitter end.” 

“ Is it your duty ? ” asked Crossley. 

“ Is it my duty ? ” repeated the young lady ; “ need 
you ask ? I am under a vow.” 

The detective gave Nance a long and earnest gaze. 
He had one of those faces extremely difficult to read. 
It was smooth in outline, commonplace in expression; 
it was a contented, slightly self-satisfied face ; the eyes 
were well open and of a serene tone of blue ; the mouth 
was hidden by a thick short moustache. Crossley was 
the sort of man who would pass anywhere without ex- 


CROSSLEY. 


145 


citing the least attention. He had the sort of physio- 
gnomy which thousands of other people possess. No 
one to look at him would suppose for a moment that he 
was one of the shrewdest detectives of his day — a man 
practically at the head of his profession — keen to read 
motives, capable of looking down into the hearts of 
many apparently inexplicable mysteries. 

While he gave Nance one of his slow and apparently 
indifferent glances, he was really looking into her 
troubled heart. 

“You are a happy young married lady now,” he said 
after a pause. 

“ Yes, yes, I am very happy,” she said, clasping her 
hands. 

“You are much attached to your good husband, 
madam ? ” 

“ Need you ask ? ” Her eyes filled slowly with tears. 

“Then for Heaven’s sake, Mrs. Rowton,” said the 
detective, speaking in an altogether new voice for him, 
“give this matter up, let it drop. Nay, hear me out” — 
he raised his hand to interrupt a flow of words which 
were rushing to Nancy’s lips — “ I am speaking against 
myself and against my own interests when I so advise 
you ; but I am not without heart, madam, and I have 
seen in the past how sad your life was and how you 
suffered. It is my profession to hunt down criminals — 
to scent crime to its source. In this case let me do 
what is contrary to my profession — let me leave the 
curtain unlifted. Mrs. Rowton, may I persuade you to 
leave justice and revenge in this special case to Heaven ? ” 

“ I cannot,” said Nance. “ I am amazed to hear you 


10 


146 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


speak in that tone — you, of all people. I cannot possibly 
do it. What do you mean ? What can you mean ? ” 

“ What I say, madam. I will tell you quite frankly 
why I came here to-day. I came to Rowton Heights 
for a double purpose. I am, I believe, in possession at 
last of a valuable clue which may lead to the arrest of 
the man who took your brother’s life; but I find on 
looking into matters that there are complications in 
connection with this search, and because of these, I 
would earnestly beg of you, from a friendly point of 
view, to give up the search. Now, Mrs. Rowton, I 
shall not explain myself. Once again I beg of you to 
let the matter drop. Do not carry on this search any 
further.” 

“ I wonder at you,” said Nance, with sparkling 
eyes ; “ and you call yourself a professional detective ! ” 

“ I do, madam, I do ; but even a professional detective 
may have a heart.” 

“ Well, listen to me,” said Nance. “ I hate the man 
who killed my brother. Two passions move me — love 
for my husband, and hatred for the man who killed my 
young brother. When I think of that ruffian I have no 
heart ; when I think of my ruined father’s life, of my 
brother’s shameful death, I have no heart — none. I am 
under a vow to the dead. I must carry on this search. 
Do you understand me ? ” 

“ I do, Mrs. Rowton. Well, I have done my duty in 
recommending mercy to you. Some day you may regret 
that you have not listened to me.” 

“I shall never regret it. Now let us drop this side 
of the question. You have a clue — tell me all about it.” 


THE TOKN LETTER AND THE MARK. 


147 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE TORN LETTiiR AND THE MARK. 

Crossley heaved a sigh, took his handkerchief out of 
his pocket, wiped some drops of moisture from his 
brow, and then began to speak in a dry, business-like 
tone. 

“ You know how very slight our clues have been up 
to the present ? he said after a pause. ** Your brother 
was murdered in a caf^ in Paris ; murderer unknown ; 
motive of the crime unknown. A man who is now in 
his grave appeared on the scene half-an-hour after the 
murder was committed. He found close to the body of 
the murdered man half a sheet of paper on which some- 
thing in cipher was written, and at the foot of the cipher in 
place of signature were some very peculiar hieroglyphics. 
That piece of paper has lain in my possession for years. 
I have studied the cipher and the hieroglyphics which 
stood in place of a signature with the utmost care. I 
have transposed the alphabet in all manner of ways, not 
only at my office when I had a moment to spare, but 
over my evening pipe at home. With infinite trouble I 
have made out a few words, but nothing to give me any 
clue to the identity of the man to whom the paper 
belonged. 

“ The gentleman who is now dead and who appeared 
on the scene of the murder half an-hour after it was 
committed, says he saw a man leaving the caf6 who 

10 * 


148 


A SON or ISHMAEL. 


looked much excited — was dark, and of unusual height 
and breadth. His attention was attracted to this man 
because he wore no hat, and he had also a peculiar mark 
above his upper lip. He described the mark as something 
in the shape of a death’s head and cross-bones, but could 
not positively be sure on that point. By evidence taken 
at the time it was made abundantly plain that this man 
must have been the murderer. He has never been 
captured, and our only chance of finding him consists 
in following up the clue which the mysterious paper in 
my possession can give us. 

“ There is little or no doubt either that the murder 
was premeditated, as the writing was an appointment, 
bringing the murdered man to the spot. My business, 
therefore, Mrs. Rowton, is to find the man who wrote 
the letter, and who has that peculiar mark on his face.” 

“Yes,” said Nance, with some impatience. “Re- 
member,” she added, “ that I have heard all this dis- 
cussed many, many times.” 

“Yes, madam.” 

“ And have you nothing further to say ? ” 

“A little more. Have you any objection to my 
locking the door ? ” 

“ Certainly not. But is it necessary? No one will 
disturb us during our interview.” 

“ I am none so sure of that,” replied the detective. 
“There is a young woman in this house who would 
think very little of eavesdropping.” 

“ Whom do you mean ? ” asked Nance with a start. 

“ A dark-eyed slip of a girl, madam — she came into 
this room a few minutes ago to fetch a book. I looked 


THE TOKN LETTER AND THE MARK. 


149 


at her and she looked at me. If ever a face had cunning 
in it, hers is the one.” 

“My maid, Hester Winsome,” thought Nance to 
herself. 

Aloud she said : “ Well, lock the door, and we shall 
be safe.” 

Crossley did so. 

As he resumed his seat, he said : 

“ I have something of great interest to tell you, 
madam. I have lately arrested a man who belongs to a 
notorious school of burglars — he was discovered uttering 
a forged cheque. In searching his house I found a 
similar half sheet of paper to that already in my pos- 
session, with the same cipher and the same hiero- 
glyphics.” 

“ Impossible ! ” said Nance, springing to her feet, and 
speaking in great excitement. “ Then you have really 
found the man ? ” 

“ Pray sit down, Mrs. Rowton. I have not found the 
man, but I have found a clue which may lead to him. 
Now I want you to allow me take certain steps in order 
to make my suspicion a certainty.” 

“ What are they ? ” 

“ I want, with your permission, to locate a member of 
my staff at Rowton Heights,” 

“ You do ! What can you possibly mean ? ” 

“ Simply what I say, Mrs. Rowton. In order to make 
my suspicion a certainty a member of my staff must 
come here.” 

“ But why ? ” 

“I would rather not say at present. Remember, 


150 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


young lady, that I have asked you to give up this search 
— you wish to continue it to the bitter end. The clue 
which I have unexpectedly acquired points to a certain 
track — that track lies red and hot round Rowton 
Heights.” 

“ You excite and terrify me,” said Nance, turning 
white as death. 

“ Even now, ma’am, we can drop the whole thing.” 

“ Never, never ; my heart palpitates with eagerness to 
go on. Oh ! that I could find that coward, that ruffian, 
that assassin ! If it is necessary for your purpose to 
send a man here, let him come.” 

“ I thank you, Mrs. Rowton. The question now to 
consider is, in what guise he had best appear on the 
scene.” 

“ Do you mean to imply that the man we are seeking 
for is in this house ? ” 

“ I mean to imply nothing of the kind, young lady. 
I believe, however, that a member of my staff may do 
good work if his headquarters are here for a short time.” 

“ He shall come,” said Nance, “he shall come. ’ Send 
him down at once.” 

“ It would be fatal to cur purpose, madam, if the 
least suspicion were aroused. Now let me think. Can 
you manage another footman ? ” 

“I don’t know anything about the servants — they are 
entirely managed by my housekeeper, Mrs. Ferguson. 
We are a small family and we have two footmen here at 
present.” 

“ Has Mr. Rowton a valet ? ” asked Crossley, knitting 
his brows as he spoke. 


THE TORN LETTER AND THE MARK. 161 

“No, he never will have one. He hates to have 
people about him when he is dressing.” 

“ Some gentlemen are like that,” said Crossley. “ It 
must be the footman then. There is nothing for it, Mrs. 
Rowton, but for you to dismiss one of your servants.” 

“ I don’t know how that is possible,” answered Nance 
— “ the two footmen who are here at present grew up in 
the village, and are, I believe, much attached to the 
place.” 

“You must make an excuse to get rid of one of them. 
Watch him when he commits some slight indiscretion, 
give him notice, pay him a month’s wages and a trifle 
over if you like, and then wire to me. My man shall 
come down quickly to take his place.” 

“This upsets me terribly,” said Nance. She pressed 
her hand to her forehead as she spoke. 

“ I said there would be crooked work and all kinds 
of unpleasantnesses,” said the detective in a dry tone. 
He rose as he spoke. “ Can you oblige me with fifty 
pounds on account ? ” he asked. 

“ I will go to my room and fetch it,” answered Mrs. 
Rowton. 

She ran upstairs and entered her little boudoir. To 
her annoyance she found that her maid, Hester, was 
standing over her writing table. The girl had a duster 
in her hand which she began to use assiduously when 
Nancy appeared. 

“I want ihis room — will you leave me?” said her 
mistress. 

“Yes, ma’am, certainly. I was just dusting the 
ornaments on your table — I had no time to look after 


162 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


them properly this morning. I am going now to the 
conservatories to pick some fresh flowers for these 
vases.” 

“ Thank you. But leave me now,” said Nancy. 

Hester slowly left the room. Mrs. Rowton hastily 
unlocked her secretary, and taking out her cheque book, 
filled in a cheque for the amount which Crossley had 
demanded, and went downstairs. 

The detective took it without a word. 

“ I have just time to catch my train,” he said, looking 
at his watch as he spoke. “ I shall expect to hear from 
you, madam, in a day or two with regard to the new 
footman.” 

‘*Yes,” answered Nance. “You shall hear from 
me.” 

The man left the library and a moment later his foot- 
steps might have been heard crunching the gravel as he 
walked away. 

Hester Winsome, from an upper window, looked after 
his retreating form. 

“ I guess who you are,” she said to herself. “ You 
don^t know all that I know. Some day perhaps you and 
I may be friends, there is no saying. Ah ! my young 
lady, you’re a deep one, but you are not quite as deep 
as Hester Winsome yet.” 

As Nancy was leaving the library she came suddenly 
face to face with Mrs. Ferguson. 

“ I beg your pardon, madam,” said the housekeeper, 
“ but may I speak to you for a moment ? ” 

“Certainly,” answered Nance; “is anything the 
matter ? ” 


THE TORN LETTER AND THE MARK. 


163 


“ I am ashamed to trouble you, Mrs. Rowton. It is 
about that tiresome George — he has just given notice to 
leave.” 

“ George,” said Nance with a start, her colour flush- 
ing ; ** I thought that you liked him.” 

“He is an excellent servant, madam, and gives com- 
plete satisfaction ; but the fact is, he has taken fright 
on account of the new safe. The safe arrived this 
morning and the men have been busy putting it up 
all day. It is a wonderful safe, and they tell me 
there is not a burglar in the land who can break 
into it. It is worth your while to come and see it, 
ma’am.” 

“So I will presently,” answered Nance; “but tell me 
now about George.” 

“Well,” said Mrs. Ferguson, “I never knew before 
that the lad had nerves ; but nerves he has and no 
mistake. The men called him to help them move the 
plate into the safe. It was evidently a surprise to him 
to see such a heap of splendid plate, and he came to 
me afterwards all white and trembling. 

“ ‘ I had no idea there was so much plate in the 
house,’ he said. ‘It quite frightens me, and I won’t 
take the responsibility of living in the same place with 
it. I have heard of a place in London that I think will 
suit me, and I’d like to go.’ ” 

“ Well, let him go,” said Nance. 

“To be sure, ma’am. Foolish lad, to leave a first- 
class place of this sort because he has got a bit of a 
scare. What has the plate to do with him ? ” 

Nance was silent. 


154 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


‘‘The inconvenience, too,” continued Mrs. Ferguson, 
knitting her brows, and speaking with a touch of annoy- 
ance ; “and just when Vickers had taken the trouble 
to train him in. This will put too much work on 
Hamley, the under-footman, and he don’t know his 
work as well as George. If my master should come 
back unexpectedly, as he always does, we’ll not have 
the place in the apple-pie order that I should like it to 
be in. I shall, of course, look out for another servant 
immediately.” 

“George must go,” said Nance. “There is no use 
in keeping an unwilling or frightened servant in the 
place.” 

“Very well, ma’am, of course you are right. I’ll send 
off a note by the next post to the registry office in 
London, where I generally apply for servants.” 

“ No, don’t do that,” answered Nance. “ It is 
strange that you should have spoken to me about 
George now, for it so happens that I heard only a few 
moments ago of an excellent footman. I will write 
about him myself at once. When does George want to 
leave ? ” 

“ Really, madam, he is quite unreasonable ! ” — the 
housekeeper laughed as she spoke. “ He says the sight 
of the plate has fairly shaken his nerves, and he knows 
he’ll fancy burglars are breaking into the house every 
night from this moment forward. I never saw a sensible 
lad in such a taking. He wants to forfeit his month’s 
wages and get off as soon as possible.” 

“ Let him go,” answered Mrs. Rowton ; “ but pay him 
his wages, of course. The new footman can arrive to- 


THE TORN LETTER AND THE MARK. 


156 


morrow or the next day at latest — now I’ll come with 
you to see the new safe.” 

The two women went into the butler’s pantry, where 
the men from London were busy adjusting one of 
Clever’s patent safes. Nancy looked into it with 
curiosity. The plate was lying about in all directions. 
It made a dazzling and splendid show — silver trays, 
baskets, candelabra, table ornaments of every descrip- 
tion, coffee-pots, tea-pots, silver jugs, and valuable silver 
hunting cups were lying on the shelves, and even on the 
floor. 

“ What a quantity ! ” exclaimed the young mistress of 
Rowton Heights. “ Will the safe hold all these ? ” she 
asked, turning to one of the London workmen. 

“ Oh ! yes, madam,” was the reply, “it is one of our 
very largest. Yes,” he added, glancing at the silver 
which lay shining all about him ; “ there is scarcely a 
country house that holds such treasure as this — to say 
nothing,” he added, lowering his voice, “of the gold- 
plated articles and the jewel case.” 

“ Will you have the goodness to come forward, 
madam ? ” said another man. “ I should like to show 
you the secret receptacle where the jewel case will be 
placed.” 

“ I think I would rather not,” she said, turning white 
and frightened. 

“As you please, madam,” said the man in some 
surprise; “but I surely understood from Mr. Rowton 
that you were to be acquainted with the workings of 
the safe.” 

“Oh! if my husband wished it shown to me, that 


156 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


alters the matter,” said Nance, the colour returning to 
her face. 

She spent nearly an hour with the men, who explained 
the different ^keys for opening the safe. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE SILVER SCHOOL. 

About a month after the events recorded in the last 
chapter, some men who went by the name of the Silver 
School, or Mob, assembled for an important meeting. 
The Silver School had existed now for several years, 
doing its mysterious work effectually and quietly, and 
never exciting suspicion, except in the minds of certain 
individuals in New Scotland Yard. They had meeting 
places all over England, and not only in England, but 
also in many parts of the world. They knew each other 
by a certain code or cipher ; they had their own peculiar 
way of shaking hands ; their own peculiar nod or smile ; 
they were in short, a dangerous secret society, their 
object being to upset morality and turn the system 
which makes a man’s property his own topsy-turvy. 
Often they met at a lonely public-house ; often in the 
heart of the busy town ; but their favourite place of 
meeting was in the house of a private individual near the 
Chelsea Embankment — the very place where Rowton 
had gone to see Long John just before his mission to 
Spain. 

To-night the members assembled themselves by a 
roaring fire, and taking out their pipes awaited the 
appearance of their leader. 


THE SILVER SCHOOL. 


167 


Adrian Rowton, who went by the name of Silver, was 
in many respects the leader of the School. He was 
secretly admired by every other member ; but their real 
chief, the man whom they feared, respected, hated, 
thrilled under, was Piper, or Long John, as they called 
him. Piper had none of Rowton’s dare-devil and care- 
less magnificence of manner. He often appeared rather 
to slink than to walk into a room ; but there was not a 
member of the Silver Mob who did not tremble when 
he spoke to him, and did not feel elated for a whole 
week if the chief gave him even a scant word of praise. 

To-night, as the men sat together, they looked 
anxiously at one another. 

“ Well, Scrivener, and how do you find the country?'* 
said the landlord, Simpkins, who was invariably present 
at these meetings. “ What sort of a place is Pitstow ? 
You don’t look, to judge from your face, as if you found 
the air so wonderfully bracing, after all.” 

“ The air is well enough, but there are other draw- 
backs— don’t you meddle, Simpkins,” replied Scrivener. 

“ You’re as unsociable as usual. Scrivener,” exclaimed 
another man. He uttered a whole jargon of mysterious 
epithets, and then continued abruptly: “Well, out 
with the cat. Why did you come up to night ? I don’t 
believe Long John expected you.” 

“ Don’t you ? I should not have come if he didn’t. 
I had a wire from him at ten o’clock this morning. 
Don’t you know that Silver has come back ? ” 

“ Ah,” muttered one or two voices deeply and under 
the breath. 

This exclamation had scarcely sounded through the 


158 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


room before the door was opened and Long John, ac- 
companied by Rowton, entered. 

Long John’s eyes looked kind and pathetic; his lips 
intensely firm, a smile now and then parting them 
and showing the white teeth. That smile, innocent 
as it appeared, was the dread of every man in the 
room. 

As Rowton now walked by his side up to the top of 
the room, he felt that the chief was smiling, and augured 
ill from the circumstance. 

“Welcome back. Silver,” said one or two voices as 
he passed them. Simpkins in particular, a cadaverous- 
looking man for all his apparent prosperity, clutched 
hold of Rowton’s coat to attract attention. 

“ It’s all right, old man,” said Rowton, nodding to 
him. 

The man’s face instantly relaxed into a happier ex- 
pression. 

“Sit down near me, Rowton, and tell us all that 
you have done during your absence,” said Long John. 
“We did not expect you for at least another fortnight. 
Have you concluded the business ? ” 

“ Yes and no,” replied Rowton. 

“ That is very ambiguous — explain yourself.” 

“ I have concluded the greater part of it, but not all. 
Piper,” replied Rowton. 

“And why not all, my good fellow? You went away 
for a definite purpose. It was understood, was it not, 
that you were on no account to show your face in 
England again until that purpose was completed in its 
entirety ? ” 


THE SILVER SCHOOL. 


159 


“ I managed the diamonds and have brought them 
back with me,” answered Rowton. 

“Aye, aye, that’s right — that’s the main thing,” 
muttered several voices at the other end of the room. 

“ Silence there,” said Long John. He did not speak 
loudly, but his eyes flashed fire. 

“Give us full particulars,” he said, flinging himself 
back in his chair, and swinging round in such a way that 
his eyes could comfortably fix themselves on Rowton’s 
face. Rowton looked haggard ; there were a few streaks 
of white in his black hair ; he was unshaven, and had a 
somewhat unkempt appearance. He told his story 
briefly, speaking with a certain terseness which com- 
pelled every man in the room to listen to him, not only 
with interest, but respect. 

“ I have brought a specimen of the diamonds with 
me,” he said after a pause. He drew forth a small bag 
as he spoke — he had been holding it all this time between 
his knees — opened the bag with a peculiarly-shaped key, 
and taking out a harmless-looking brown paper parcel, 
laid it on Piper’s knee. 

“ There they are,” he said ; “ in the rough, it is true. 
These are just ordinary specimens of the pile. The 
whole thing is worth between eighty and one hundred 
thousand pounds. I have the remainder at my hotel 
off the Strand.” 

Long John got up with a certain eagerness, which 
not all his efforts to show no emotion could altogether 
conceal. He took the little parcel, laid it on the 
table, opened it and called the other men to come 
round. 


160 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


They were rewarded by nothing apparently remark- 
able — a few rough-looking stones, uncut and dull, lay 
before them. 

Long John fingered one or two, giving them a peculiar 
and intense glance out of his melancholy eyes. 

“ And the rest are at the hotel ? ” he said. 

“ Yes, in a packet in a cupboard at the back of my 
bed.” 

“ Why did you not bring them ? ” 

“I might have been watched. It was not safe. I 
will return for them later on to-night, if one of you 
men will accompany me. Those diamonds had just 
arrived from Kimberley and were waiting to be put into 
the Bank at Madrid. I nabbed them in the nick of 
time.” 

“ Yes, yes ; you did well — you told us all that story,” 
said Piper. 

“You did very well. No one but Silver could have 
managed it,” said one of the other men in a tone of 
deep elation. “This haul sets us straight, don’t it, 
Piper?” 

“The diamonds have to be realised,” said Piper; 
“and we have not got them yet. How did you get on 
at Madrid in other respects ? ” 

“ As well as possible,” answered Rowton with a short 
laugh. “ My introductions got me into the best society 
in the place. I made some friends and saw something 
of the life.” 

“Well, so far so good,” said Piper; “but now for the 
other part of the business. You sold that black diamond, 
did you not ? ” 


THE SILVER SCHOOL. 


161 


“ I got rid of it for fifteen hundred pounds. I have 
the money in my breast pocket.” 

“ Too little,” said Piper, with a frown. ** I said it was 
worth two thousand — you sold it for five hundred pounds 
below its market value.” 

“ I could not help that.” 

“You were right, Silver, of course you were right,” 
said Scrivener, coming close up to Piper and Rowton 
as he spoke. “It would never have done to have 
brought the black diamond home again — some of us 
might have swung for it. Good to have it out of the 
land. You are certain it won’t be traced, though, old 
chap — remember it has a history.” 

“ No, it is safe enough,” said Rowton with a grim 
smile. 

“ You did right to sell it for fifteen hundred,” repeated 
Scrivener. 

“And I say he did wrong,” exclaimed Piper, stamping 
his foot as he spoke ; “ the stone was worth two thousand 
pounds, and if Rowton had played his cards well he’d 
have got it.” 

“ I could do no better,” said Rowton, with a frown 
between his brows. 

“Stuff!” exclaimed Piper. “What is the good of 
having a man like you attached to us — a man who may 
trip us up at any moment — if you cannot do what you 
are commissioned to do ? This loss of five hundred 
must be accounted for when we divide the profits.” 

“As you please,” said Rowton, slightly bowing his 
head. “ The money part of the business does not affect 
me in the least.” 


IX 


162 


A SON OF ISriMAEL. 


You have been feeding too well, my fighting cock,” 
said Piper with a sneer. You would sing another tune 
were I to take you at your word.” 

Rowton said nothing. He leant back in his chair 
folding his arms. The other men still lingered round 
the table where the specimen diamonds were lying. 
Piper went up to the table, took the little parcel, 
folded it up and placed it in his desk at the top of 
the room. He locked the desk and put the key in his 
pocket. 

“ The rest of the diamonds have got to be fetched 
to night,” he said, looking at the men. “ You, Scrivener, 
and you, Simpkins, had better accompany Rowton when 
he leaves us — wait for him outside the hotel, take the 
bag from him and bring it straight here. You can 
manage to do this when the policeman is off his beat.” 

“Rather,” said Scrivener, with a smile. “All the 
same it is a ticklish business,” he added. 

“ But worth one hundred thousand pounds. We 
must realise that money and soon. I have got my 
plans all marked out. You, Scrivener, are the man for 
the job.” 

“ I ? ” said Scrivener, looking up with a startled and 
scared face. 

“Yes, you are not going to funk it — we will make a 
man of you — you want to marry, too, don’t you ? ” 

“ Oh, time enough,” said Scrivener with a smirk. 

“ Not at all. It is good for a man to have a wife, 
and your wedding bells shall ring before long. You are 
a good fellow, one of the best of us. What do you say 
to our starting you as a jeweller? A merchant who 


THE SILVER SCHOOL. 


163 


buys rough diamonds in the ordinary market. I heard 
only to-day that a small jeweller’s shop in Cheapside 
was going a-begging — you shall take it, change your 
name and your coat, and do good business. We will 
fit you up with capital, and you shall buy sufficient 
diamonds at the ordinary price to lull suspicion. By 
degrees those which Rowton has brought back from 
Spain can be sold at full market value.” 

“ That’s a prime notion,” said Simpkins, coming for- 
ward. 

“Yes, we’ll talk of it later on — I have the whole thing 
neatly planned. Scrivener shall take the shop to-morrow. 
Now, then, to turn to another matter. Come here, 
Silver, let us hear the whole of your story. You did 
part of our work, but not all. What about the bonds ? 
How did that affair prosper ? ” 

“ I have returned without executing that part of my 
order,” said Rowton in a brief tone. 

“You have ! ” 

Long John sprang to his feet, so did Scrivener, so did 
Simpkins, so did every other man in the room. Rowton 
alone remained seated. He raised his head and stared 
from one to the other. 

“ Your reasons,” said Piper then ; “ your reasons, my 
noble leader.” 

“I am not your leader, and you know it,” replied 
Rowton. “ You lead us all.” 

“That’s neither here nor there,” interrupted Long 
John, with a sneer on his lips. “ You are our ostensible 
leader. Why did you not bring back the bonds as 
well as the diamonds ? ” 

n* 


164 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


I was in the train,” said Rowton, speaking slowly, 
and raising his eyes until their full insolent light was 
fixed intensely upon Long John’s face; “I was in the 
train which ran from Madrid to Paris, and the bonds 
were there ; but the work given me to do was dirty, 
defiling, dangerous. I thought I had done enough — in 
short, I did not execute my commission.” 

“ Your reason ? ” said Piper in a low voice. 

“ Quite simple, and I am not afraid to state it,” re- 
plied Rowton. “ I saw plainly that were I to pursue 
the business in connection with those special bonds, 
although my confederate Spider might escape, my own 
life would be the forfeit.” 

“Spider — by the way, where is Spider?” asked 
Scrivener. 

“ I left him in Spain — he is all right.” 

“ And so you feared your life would be the forfeit ? ” 
snarled Piper. 

“Yes.” 

“ Well, and what of it, you dog? ” 

“ Everything — to myself,” replied Rowton. “ I don’t 
choose to die. I — if you like the word, I will use it — I 
funked that part of my expedition.” 

An incredulous and amazed look filled the eyes of 
every man in the room. Even Long John’s eyes leapt 
for a moment with an expression almost of compassion ; 
then they fixed themselves in a stony stare on Rowton’s 
proud face. 

“ It is not like you, Silver, to be a coward,” he said 
then ; “ the word fits you badly. You were always our 
dare-devil; no danger was too hot for you. Why do 


THE SILVER SCHOOL. 


165 


you come back to us with the story of a sneak ? I re- 
peat, it is not like you.” 

“I did not secure the bonds,” continued Rowton, 
speaking in a steady and absolutely quiet voice, “for 
the simple reason that, had I done so, my own life 
would have been the forfeit. I do not choose now to 
throw away my life.” 

“ And why now, if I may venture to ask the question 
of your mightiness ? ” snapped Piper. 

“ Because I have got a wife, and I do not intend her 
to become a widow.” 

Something like a groan was heard throughout the 
room. It was more than evident that no one present 
sympathised with Rowton. 

After a pause he said abruptly, rising as he spoke : 

“ You must get another man for that part of the busi- 
ness. I distinctly refuse to commit myself in the matter. 
My life is of moment to me.” 

“ Coward ! ” growled one or two. 

“You may taunt me with that word if you like, my 
good fellows,” said Rowton, looking down the room as 
he spoke. “Your taunts will not in the least affect me, 
or turn me from my set purpose. I am willing to go 
into danger for your cause, but into absolute and certain 
defeat I no longer venture. My wife is much more 
valuable to me than the opinions of the Silver Mob. 
Now, Piper, in bringing you the diamonds, I have, 
I think, executed my orders as fully as I can execute 
them. Here is the money for the black diamond. 
-When I deliver over the packet which contains the 
diamonds in the rough, to Scrivener and Simpkins, I 


166 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


shall feel that I have earned a holiday. I am anxious 
to return to Rowton Heights early to-morrow morning. 
Have you anything further to say ? ” 

“Yes, a good deal,” said Piper ; “sit down again and 
don’t be so impatient. As to your conduct with regard 
^0 the bonds, I refuse to speak further about it on the 
present occasion. I must consult with Scrivener and 
one or two other members of the School, and shall 
probably summon you here any day within the next 
week or fortnight. In the meantime there are other 
matters to be talked over. We want fresh blood — the 
School won’t prosper without. What sort of a boy is 
that lad of yours ? ” 

“What lad?” asked Rowton, raising his head, but 
a startled expression all the same crossing his face. 

“You know the boy I mean — the son of the mad 
woman. Is he a plucky little chap ? ” 

“ I refuse to say anything about him — he has nothing 
to do with you nor you with him.” 

“That’s as we may think best,” said Piper, with 
another sneer. “ After all, I can get information apart 
from you. Scrivener, come here.” 

Scrivener, who had re-seated himself near the fire 
between Simpkins and another man with a particu- 
larly evil cast of face, now stepped lightly across the 
room. 

“Scrivener,” said Long John, “ have you made good 
use of your time at Pitstow ? ” 

“ Excellent, Piper,” replied the man. “ I have mapped 
out the entire district. I know every room in every 
house, the amount of ” 


THE SILVEE SCHOOL. 


167 


“ That will do,” said Piper, raising his hand ; “ we 
can go into that matter at a less pressing moment than 
the present. What sort is Rowton’s boy ? ” 

“ A fine- lad,” said Scrivener. 

“ You have seen him.?” 

“ Often.” 

“ Describe him.” 

“Slim, dark, tall,” answered Scrivener; “plucky, a 
little dare-devil like his uncle there — in short. Silver 
himself in miniature.” 

“Suitable, do you think?” said Long John, looking 
fixedly at Scrivener. 

“ Undoubtedly ; the very lad for our purpose ; heaps' 
of go in him ; don’t know the meaning of funk ; slippery 
and agile as an eel.” 

“ That will do. Scrivener,” said Long John. 

Scrivener retired down the room and Long John 
turned to Rowton. 

Rowton was standing perfectly upright with his back 
to the wall. He was looking straight before him down 
the long vista of the room. 

“ Silver, you have disappointed me,” said Long John. 
“ What I expected would happen, when you took it into 
your head to marry a wife, has happened. You are now 
half hearted, lukewarm. We don’t want lukewarm people 
here. Get you gone to Rowton Heights if you want to 
— that is, after you have delivered the swag to Scrivener 
and Simpkins. Yes, get you gone ; take your holiday ; 
kiss your wife, and make the most of her. Embrace 
your nephew, too, for if my plans are carried out, you 
won’t have him long. Now go. Hark ye, though, one 


168 


A SON OF ISHMA.EL. 


moment. That safe was sent down to the Heights, was 
it not ? ” 

“ I ordered it, but cannot tell if it has arrived,” replied 
Rowton. “ I have been out of England for a month, 
and during that time I have had no news.” 

“ The safe arrived weeks ago,” called out Scrivener 
from his seat by the fire. 

“That’s right,” said Long John. “We can open up 
business in that neighbourhood next week. Go home. 
Silver. Your duty now is to entertain the county. 
Cease to be Silver, the head of our School, and assume 
your rightful name — Rowton, the heir to a fine old 
country estate, the owner of an ideal country house. 
Wake up the county, entertain them. Be the good old 
English squire ; dispense hospitality right and left ; use 
your wife as a bribe to induce the neighbours to come to 
your house. Be a complete blind yourself, and leave 
us to our work. We won’t trouble you for a time. We 
will respect your scruples and your fears^ 

Piper’s lips smiled grimly as he uttered the last words, 
but his eyes looked gentle and refined. 

“ I have a word to say,” interrupted Rowton. 

“What is that?” 

“ I return to Rowton Heights and I do exactly what 
you wish me to do, but only on a condition.” 

“ There you are with your conditions again,” laughed 
Scrivener. 

“ Silence,” said Long John. 

“ I do what you want. Piper, on one condition.” 

“Your position does not admit of conditions,” said 
Piper. “You are completely under my thumb. You 



“ Your position does not admit of conditions ; you are completely under 
my thumb.” 


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THE SILVER SCHOOL. 


169 


dare not move an inch except as I will you — you know 
that’* 

“ I do not” 

“ What does the fighting cock mean ? ” cried several 
voices. 

“ I owe submission to none of you,” repeated Rowton. 
“ There is always, you men understand, such a thing as 
throwing up the sponge. 1 am completely sick of this 
life. If you put the screw on too tight I throw up the 
sponge — how I do it is my own affair.” 

The man standing there gloomy, defiant, his head 
thrown back, his bold eyes fixed on the pathetic and 
peculiar eyes of the chief, was a spectacle to bring forth 
admiration in the breasts of such men as were members 
of his School. There was absolute sincerity in Rowton’s 
tone. He was driven into a corner — he could turn 
round and show fight. To such a man suicide was more 
than possible. Suicide would be bad enough. Rowton 
was an important member of the School — his presence, 
his individuality, his life, were essential to the carrying 
on of the nefarious business. If he really threw up the 
sponge, danger might quickly accrue. 

Your condition ? ” asked Long John. 

“ I do what you wish,” continued Rowton, tugging at 
his moustache as he spoke ; “ I keep up this horrible 
farce, this tragedy of comedy, I put my powers, my 
genius, at your command, I blind the county and you 
can do your cursed will, provided you leave that lad of 
mine alone.” 


170 


A SON OF ISHMAEL, 


CHAPTER XX. 

A BLACK DIAMOND. 

Early the next morning Rowton returned home. 
Nance was standing in the garden when she suddenly 
saw her husband cross the lawn ; he had walked over 
from Pitstow. Nancy, whose face was very pale, and 
under whose eyes were large black shadows, looked, 
when she suddenly beheld his face, as if a ray of the 
spring had got into her heart. She uttered an almost 
inarticulate cry of joy, and sprang into his arms. 

“ At last,” she panted, “ at last. Oh ! how cruelly I 
have misse*^ you.” 

“And I you, sweetheart,” he answered. “Let us 
forget the past now we are together again.” 

“ Yes, at last,’* she panted. She laid her head on his 
breast. Her happiness was so intense that her breath 
came fast and hurriedly. 

“ Look me in the face, little woman,” said Rowton. 
“ Why darling, you are changed ; how thin you have got, 
and your eyes so big — too big. What is it, Nancy? '* 

“ I have been starving,” said Nancy. 

“Ah, I might have guessed,” he said, clasping her, 
again to him. “ Well, I have returned. I, too, have 
starved and suffered ; but this is plenty after famine. 
Kiss me, Nance, kiss me many times.” 

“ You are never going away again ? ” she asked after a 
pause. “ I cannot live if you do it again, Adrian.” 


A BLACK DIAMOND. 


171 


“ Let us think of nothing gloomy to-day. I am pretty 
safe to remain for a time.” 

The new footman, whose name was Jacob, was seen at 
that moment crossing the lawn bearing a letter on a 
salver. 

“ From Lady Georgina Strong, and the messenger is 
waiting,” he said to Nance. 

Nance took the letter impatiently, opened it, glanced 
through its contents, and spoke : 

“Lady Georgina wants to dine here to-night — shall 
we have her ? ” she asked, as she glanced up at her 
husband. 

“Yes,” he replied, “we must not make ourselves 
hermits. Tell the messenger to wait,” said Rowton, 
speaking to the servant, whose eyes, after glancing at 
him, were fixed on the ground. “ Say Mrs. Rowton will 
send a note in a moment.” 

Jacob turned obediently and went back to the house. 

“ A new footman ? ” said Rowton. “ Have you en- 
gaged another servant, or has one of the other domestics 
left us ? ” 

“ Yes, George has gone,” said Nance. She had for- 
gotten all about Jacob, to whose presence she had 
become quite accustomed, but at her husband’s words a 
great flush of colour rose to her cheeks. 

“George went for a silly reason,” she said; “he was 
quite nervous about the plate. This man has come in 
his stead — he seems a good servant.” 

“ Doubtless, dearest,” said Rowton. “ Now let us go 
into the house. I must send to the station for my 
luggage, and you had better scribble a line to Lady 


172 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Georgina. Tell her the prodigal has returned, and that 
to-night we kill the fatted calf.” 

Nance laughed a laugh of pure pleasure. The note 
was despatched, and a messenger sent for Rowton’s 
luggage ; after which the pair had lunch together and 
then went out into the grounds. 

The day was a spring one, warm and balmy ; crocuses 
and snowdrops bloomed gaily in the garden ; the trees 
were putting out their first spring buds. 

Our good time is about to begin,” said Rowton, his 
arm round his wife’s waist as he spoke. “ There is just 
a month from now to Easter. I presume all the neigh- 
bours have called on you, Nance? ” 

“ I suppose so. There are shoals and shoals of cards,” 
she answered. 

“We will look through them together — I know every- 
body. Have you returned the calls ? ” 

“ I think so. Lady Georgina was my guide into polite 
society — she went with me everywhere. We left your 
cards with mine.” 

“ Right. I knew you would make a splendid woman 
of the world Have invitations come to us yet ? ” 

“ Yes, half a dozen dinners and one or two rather big 
evening affairs. Oh, and a ball given by the officers at 
Pitstow. It is to take place in the town hall. I have 
not replied yet — the ball is for next Tuesday.” 

“We will go,” said Rowton ; “we will dance our time 
away. I shall dance with my wife, no matter what the 
county say.” 

He hummed a bar of his favourite song, “Begone, 
dull care.” 


A BLACK DIAMOND. 


173 


** You don^t look too well, Adrian,” said the young 
wife, glancing up tenderly into his face ; “ you don’t 
suppose I want balls or parties. You are with me again 
and my heart is full.” 

“Faith, Nance, gaiety is no delight to me,” he re- 
plied; “but ‘noblesse oblige,’ dearest — we must live up 
to our position. The Squire of Rowton Heights is the 
biggest man in the place — he must entertain. Dame 
Rowton must entertain too. Ah ! pretty one, how 
superb you will look in that old dress — and I have 
brought home a trinket for you.” 

“A trinket ! ” said Nance ; “but I have so many.” 

“None like this,” he answered. “What think you 
of a black diamond ? ” 

“ Black,” she said. 

“ Aye, such a beauty — fit for the brow of a queen. I 
am not going to show it you yet. You shall wear it at 
our own ball. To-night we will talk over that matter 
with Lady Georgina. She is worth her weight in gold 
when we take her really into our confidence.” 

“Yes, she has the kindest of hearts,” said Nance; 
“ but do you really like all this excitement, Adrian ? 
Does it really give you pleasure ? ” 

“ Pleasure,” he answered, his brow darkening ; “ your 
kisses alone in all the wide world give me pleasure.” 

“ Take them then,” she answered. 


174 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE RATS IN THE QUEEN ANNE WING* 

The new footman’s name was Jacob Short. On his 
arrival he had specially requested that he might be called 
by his Christian name. Nance saw no objection to this. 
The man, to outward appearance, was harmless in every 
way. Unlike his name he was somewhat tall of stature 
— this was his ostensible reason for making the request 
that he might be called Jacob. 

“ I am lanky and long and thin,” he said to the maids, 
** and when I am spoken to as Short, it’s like inviting 
you all to make fun of me.” 

He quickly became popular in the servants’ hall and 
in the housekeeper’s room. He could tell good 
stories. He was extremely obliging and had a thorough 
knowledge of his duties. 

There was one member of the household, however, 
who did not get on with the new footman — this was 
the lady’s maid, Hester Winsome. She was a rather 
pretty girl, and she took great pains to make herself 
attractive when she supped in the servants’ hall. On 
these occasions she had been accustomed to delicate 
attentions from the now absent George. Hester was a 
flirt, and she liked a good-looking young footman to 
pay her attention. She regretted George, but was 
abundantly willing to allow Jacob to take his place. 


THE EATS IN THE QUEEN ANNE WING. 176 


But Jacob did not see this at first. He gave Hester 
one or two apparently indifferent glances, read her 
through and through, and then determined to have 
nothing whatever to do with her. 

Hester bore this at first without complaint, but after 
struggling against her fate for quite three weeks, she be- 
came restive. As Jacob would not confide in her, she 
began to make him confidences. 

“ Why, you have never been all round the house yet,” 
she said to him at supper, on the day on which Rowton 
came home. 

“ How do you know that ? ” he asked her. 

“ How do I know it ? ” she retorted, lowering her 
voice, and edging close to his side. ** If you had even 
tried to go all over the house you’d be asking questions, 
my fine fellow.” 

“ And how do you know I have not asked questions ? ” 
replied Jacob. “ I’ll trouble you. Miss Winsome, to 
pass me the sardines.” 

Hester pouted, stretched out her hand for the 
delicacy which Jacob demanded, and after a time con- 
tinued in a low voice : 

“ Well, then, if you have been over the house, and if 
you have asked questions, tell me what you think of the 
Queen Anne wing ? ” 

To this query Jacob did not immediately respond. 
After a long pause he said slowly : 

I have not been in the wing yet— can you take me 
there ? ” 

Hester’s heart gave a sudden throb of delight. Up 
to the present, deep as she undoubtedly was, she had 


176 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


never suspected Jacob to be any other than a well- 
behaved and excellent servant. She now saw a chance 
of getting him into her power, of forcing him to flirt 
with her, and her spirits rose. 

“It is difficult to get into that part of the house,” 
she said. “ Do not say anything more at present. I 
will come to you if I can at nine o’clock to-morrow 
in Vickers’ pantry.” 

Jacob made no reply at all to this, and Hester did 
not even know if he heard her. 

At the appointed hour, however, she made her appear- 
ance at the door of the pantry. She held a key in her 
hand. 

“ I saw Leah half an hour ago,” she said. 

“ Leah ! and who is Leah ? ” asked Jacob. 

“ She is the poor mad lady’s caretaker.’* 

Jacob began to polish up his silver — he held a 
chamois leather in his hand. 

“Now that’s curious,” he said in a slow voice; “so 
you keep a mad lady on the premises ? ” 

“ That we do — she is in the Queen Anne wing.” 

“ You don’t say so ! ” 

“ I do. I can take you over the wing if you come at 
once.” , 

“ I can’t until I have put all this plate tidy.” 

“Oh, bother the plate,” said Hester. “Can’t you 
come at once ? — the chance may go.” 

“ I can come all the sooner if you’ll help me,” said 
Jacob. “You can wash while I polish. Now then, two 
pair of hands are better than one.” 

“That they are,” said Hester, delighted. She put 


THE EATS IN THE QUEEN ANNE WING. 177 


the key on the shelf by her side, and helped Jacob to 
wash up the plate. 

With a sudden dexterous turn of his hand and a flick 
of the leather with which he was polishing a valuable 
tray, Jacob contrived to slip the key into his own 
pocket. Hester, quick as she was, did not see the 
movement. 

After a time the plate was all in order, and the foot- 
man announced to the lady’s maid that he was at her 
service. 

Hester began to look for the key — she looked on the 
shelf where she had placed it, she looked on the floor, 
she felt her pockets and shook out her apron, but all in 
vain. Jacob helped her in her search with assiduity. 
He appeared as anxious and annoyed as she was. 
Footsteps were heard approaching before any solution of 
the difficulty was arrived at, and Hester, knowing that 
her opportunity for that evening was gone, bade Jacob 
a reluctant good-night. 

“ What am I to do ? ” she said as she was parting 
from him. “ If I lose that key Leah will give it to me 
— it opens the little postern gate into the garden, and 
Leah never knew that I took it. I took it yesterday, for 
I thought I’d like to show you the Queen Anne wing 
and the garden, Mr. Jacob.” 

“ And I am sure I am much obliged to you,” replied 
Jacob. ** We’ll have a good look for the key the first 
thing in the morning ” 

Hester was obliged to be satisfied, and when she 
departed Jacob softly patted the key which lay in his 
trousers pocket. 

12 


178 


A SON OF ISllMAEL. 


That night, when the rest, of the house had gone to 
bed, the new footman rose and stole quietly through the 
silent house. He was evidently an expert at this sort 
of thing, for the floors did not creak as he passed over 
them, and he turned the handles of several doors without 
making the ghost of a sound. By-and-by he found him- 
self in the open air. The night was a dark one, which 
favoured his purpose. A great watch -dog, of the name 
of Chance, rose up and growled as the man approached. 
Jacob called his name very softly under his breath and 
the creature wagged his tail. 

“ Quiet, Chance, stay where you are,” said Jacob. 

The dog looked wistfully after him, but obeyed. 

Jacob Short quickly discovered the little postern 
door. He slipped Hester’s well-oiled key into it, turned 
the lock, and soon found himself in the Queen Anne 
garden. 

The night was a cold one, but Jacob did not seem to 
mind that fact in the least. He stayed in the garden 
for two or three hours, and during that time he explored 
every inch of it. Dark as the night was, there was a 
perfect map of that garden sketched out in Jacob Short’s 
brain before the first streak of daylight dawned. He 
was back in his bed by that time, having made some 
discoveries which excited him considerably. 

“I could never have done it with that minx of a 
girl tacked on to my heels,” he said to himself; 
“ but she shall show me the inside of the house 
whenever she likes — and now to sleep, and to keep 
my astonishing suspicions to myself until they become 
certainties.” 


THE RATS IN THK QUEEN ANNE WINa. 179 


In the morning the man put the key of the postern 
gate into Hester’s hands^ 

“ I found it buried under some rubbish on the floor,’* 
he said. “ I’ll be very much obliged if you will take me 
to see the wing to-night.” 

Hester, who had slept badly, was delighted to get 
back the key again, and early that evening, having made 
a rendezvous in advance with Leah, she took Jacob into 
the wing. 

Leah met the pair just outside the mad lady’s sitting- 
room. 

“How do you do?” she said, after Hester had 
formally presented Jacob Short to her notice. “ I am 
sorry that my patient happens to be asleep at this 
moment, so I cannot take you into her sitting-room.” 

“ I won’t awaken her, and I’d like to see her,” re- 
marked Jacob. 

Leah shook her head. 

“ It cannot be done,” she said. “ If she were to wake 
it would be as much as my place is worth. You can see 
the rest of the house, of course.” 

“ Well, thank you for that,” replied Jacob. “ It seems 
an uncommon snug place,” he added, glancing round 
him as he spoke. 

“ Yes, it is well enough.” replied I-,eah. “ It is to all 
intents and purposes a little house by itself. Come this 
way now — I’ll show you the bedrooms first.” 

Leah was right in saying that the Queen Anne wing 
was a complete small house. It contained kitchen, 
scullery, coal cellar, two sitting-rooms and two large airy 
bedrooms. The little house was well but plainly furnished 

12 * 


180 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


There was nothing gaudy about it, and the furniture was 
somewhat old-fashioned ; but the whole place had a 
cheerful and complete air of comfort. 

“ This is my bedroom,” said Leah, “ and this is my 
mistress’s.” She entered one of the large bedrooms as 
she spoke. “You see this door,” she added: “this 
communicates with my mistress’s room — come in and 
I’ll show it to you. See, my mistress has no door to 
her room, except through mine. There was a door, but 
Mr. Rowton had it built up when Mrs. Cameron was 
brought here. We have been obliged to bar the windows, 
too, and they only open a very little way at the top ; 
but, of course you would not notice that at night. The 
poor lady has a comfortable room, and, but for the fact 
that she is really in confinement, all- the ordinary luxuries 
of life.” 

“ Yes, the place seems comfortable,” said Jacob. “ I 
am interested in the insane,” he continued ; “ I had a 
sister once who went off her head — they took her to the 
Bethlehem Asylum, and she did not live very long, poor 
thing. Her sad case makes me take a sort of liking to 
all insane people.” 

“ Insanity is a most fascinating subject,” interrupted 
Hester at that moment. There was a queer light in the 
strange girl’s eyes. She walked about Mrs. Cameron’s 
bedroom, prying here, there, and everywhere 

“ Hester, your curiosity will be your undoing,” said 
Leah, giving the girl a grim smile which flitted across 
her strong face for a moment and then disappeared. 

“ Are you often disturbed by your charge at night, 
Mrs. Leah ? ” queried Jacob. 


THE EATS IN THE QUEEN ANNE WING. 181 


“Now and then,” replied Leah, “but often for a 
whole month the poor lady sleeps without rocking. It 
is wonderful what good nights she has, all things con- 
sidered ; she is often more restless in the daytime than 
she is at night.” 

“ And are the rats as troublesome as they were ? ” 
suddenly asked Hester. 

“ No ; the last poison had good effect,” replied Leah, 
turning her back as she spoke. 

“ Are you troubled with rats ? ” asked Jacob. “ Why 
don’t you keep a cat ? ” 

“ Mrs. Cameron hates cats,” answered Leah. “ It is 
one of her illusions, poor thing, that she is pursued by a 
black cat. She would not see one within a yard of her 
at any price.” 

“ If I were you, Mr. Jacob Short,” said Hester 
with a quick, sudden movement which brought her 
directly facing the new footman, “I’d ask to see the 
cellars of this house. The cellars are, to my way of 
thinking, very curious.” Her dark eyes flashed as she 
spoke. 

“ To be sure,” replied Jacob ; “ that is, if I am not 
giving too much trouble.” 

“Well, you are, and that’s plain,” replied Leah. 
“ There is nothing at all wonderful in the cellars ; they 
run under the house. For that matter, I believe they 
run under the whole of Rowton Heights. I like houses 
with cellars, for my part ; they keep the sitting-rooms so 
much drier. It is a pity, of course, the rats have got 
into them ; but, as I said just now to Hester, they have 
not troubled us very much lately. Come to the kitchen, 


182 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


if you like, and I’ll show you the door which leads into 
the principal cellar.” 

They went downstairs, explored a small and well- 
appointed kitchen, and a short time afterwards the foot- 
man and Hester bade Leah a cordial good-night, and 
returned to the house. 

“ Now, you must never tell on me,” said Hester as 
they walked back over the grass, for Leah had let them 
out from the Queen Anne garden. “ If it was known 
that I had shown you the mad lady’s wing, it would be 
as much as my place was worth.” 

“ I have no object in betraying you,” said Jacob in a 
sharp voice. 

“ And what do you think of it ? ” said Hester, after 
a pause. 

“ I think nothing of it,” answered Jacob, “ only 
that my master must be a very considerate gentle- 
man.” 

“Yes, that he is,” replied Hester ; “it is not everyone 
would keep a mad sister close to him, and so comfort- 
able, too.” 

“ Exactly,” replied Jacob. 

“ It is a good thing the rats are not so troublesome 
now,” continued Hester. 

“ Very good,” said Jacob. 

The maid favoured him with a glance of some irrita- 
tion. 

“ You must be a ninny,” she said, after a pause. 

“ I don’t understand you. Miss Winsome,” replied the 
new footman. 

“Well, now, just tell me plain out and honest,” 


THE JRATS IN THj: QUEEN ANNE WINH. 183 

returned the girl, “if you believe that story about 
he rats ? ” 

“ I have no reason to disbelieve it,^^ he answered. 
“ Have you?” 

“ Yes, that I have.” 

“ I know what you think,” said Jacob, after a pause ; 
“ you are superstitious — some girls are made that way — 
and you believe in ghosts.” 

“ Very substantial ones,” she retorted. “ I could tell 
tales to them that are curious. You are not curious, are 
you, Mr. Short ? ” 

“ One of my faults,” replied Short, after a pause, “ is 
that I am made without the least scrap of curiosity. 
They say it is a sign that I am lacking in human 
sympathy ; but I never did take the least glimmer of 
interest in what did not concern myself. It is nothing 
to me whether there are rats in the cellars, or whether 
there are ghosts. You will excuse me now, Miss Win- 
some, for hurrying on ; I have got to take the wine into 
the drawing-room ; it is past ten o’clock.” 


184 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE MAN WITH THE MARK. 

The Rowtons now entered on a very gay lime. They 
accepted every invitation which came to them. No 
night passed which did not find them either dining out 
or attending large evening receptions. The ball at 
Pitstow turned out an immense success, and Nance was 
the acknowledged belle of the occasion. She wore one 
of her most beautiful Paris dresses, which gave her all that 
diaphanous and somewhat cloudy appearance which best 
set off the delicate style of her beauty. Nance wore 
diamonds on this occasion, and there were no jewels to 
match with hers amongst the giddy throng. By-and-by, 
the time drew on when Rowton and his wife were to 
give that house-warming which the master of Rowton 
Heights had spoken of on the day when he first took 
Nance over the house. The preparations for the ball 
were at their height, and the ball itself was to take place 
within a week’s time, when, to Mrs. Ferguson’s un- 
bounded astonishment and annoyance, Jacob, the 
valuable new footman, begged for a holiday. He came 
to the housekeeper just when she was at her busiest, and 
made his request in that cool, quiet voice which always 
characterised him. 

“ I want to go up to London for a day and a night,” 
he said. 


THE MAN WITH THE MARK, 


185 


“Well, I suppose you can when the ball is over,” 
she returned. “You have not been here two months 
yet ; but you are a good servant, and I daresay Vickers 
can manage to spare you ; but, of course, such a thing 
cannot be thought of until the ball is over.” 

“ I am very sorry,” replied Jacob, “but I have had 
bad news from home, and must go and attend to 
matters myself. If you let me off to-day, Mrs. Fer- 
guson, I’ll be back, at the very latest, the day after 
to-morrow.” 

“ You cannot go at all. Your request is most un- 
reasonable,” said Mrs. Ferguson. “There are some new 
servants coming down immediately, and the house will 
be full from end to end ; then half of the guests at least 
will arrive on Saturday. No, no, my good fellow, I 
cannot listen to you. Don’t keep me any longer. I can 
give no servants holidays until the ball is behind us 
instead of in front of us.” 

Jacob retired without a word. 

But he was not to be out-done. After thinking 
matters over for a moment or two, he resolved to attack 
his mistress, and, if necessary, to take her partly into his 
confidence. After a little searching he found Nance in 
the large conservatory which opened out of the yellow 
drawing-room. Her husband was with her. He was 
busily engaged re-potting some flowers. Rowton was 
devoted to horticulture, and no employment gave him 
greater pleasure. Nance was helping him — garden gloves 
on her hands, and a large apron over her pretty morning 
dress — when she was startled by hearing Jacob’s quiet 
voice in her ears. She turned round quickly. 


186 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ Can I speak to you for a moment, madam ? ” he 
said. “ I am very sorry to trouble you.” 

“ Certainly, Jacob,” replied the girl in a kind voice. 
“What is the matter ? You look quite in trouble. Can 
I do anything for you ? ” 

The man glanced over his shoulder at Rowton. 
Rowton, absorbed in his work, did not even know that 
Short had come into the conservatory. He was bending 
over a very valuable cactus. 

“ Nance,” he called out, “ come here. This is 
certainly a night-flowering cactus, and I do believe 
there is a bud coming. We must watch for the time 
when it bursts into flower ; the scent is something never 
to be forgotten — the flower only lasts during one night. 
Can you sketch? You ought to make a drawing of it. 
Well, if you can% I can. You never saw a night- 
flowering cactus, did you ? ” 

“No, no,” she answered. “ Ifll be with you in 
one moment, Adrian. Now, Jacob, what is it you 
want ? ” 

“ Can I speak to you alone, ma’am ? I won’t keep 
you,” said the man. 

Nance walked to the door of the conservatory. Jacob 
followed her. 

“ I am very sorry to be troublesome,” he said, “ and 
I really thought to get to London without worrying you 
in the matter, ma’am, but Mrs. Ferguson won’t let me 
go.” 

“ Do you really wish to leave us ? ” said Nance. She 
forgot at that moment all about Crossley; and Jacob 
was nothing more to her than an ordinary valuable and 


THE MAN WITH THE MAEK. 


187 


good servant. “You seem to suit the place very well, 
she continued. “ I am sorry you have to go.” 

“ I don’t want to go at all, ma’am. I am coming 
back again ; but I must go to town to-day.” 

“ Well, why not ? I daresay you can be spared.” 

“ Mrs. Ferguson says not, ma’am. Now the fact is,” 
— here Jacob lowered his voice, and his eyes sought the 
ground — “ it is Crossley ; I have had a letter from him.’ 

“Crossley the detective?” cried Nance, with a start. 

“ Yes, ma’am ; perhaps you won’t speak so loud. I 
have had a cipher from Crossley this morning — in 
answer to one of mine, of course. You know, Mrs. 
Rowton, why I am here ? ” 

“ Nance, what is keeping you ? ” called her husband. 

“ I cannot stay with you now, Jacob,” said Nance, 
colouring and looking confused. “ Coming, Adrian. 
Of course, if you want to go to town,” she continued, 
glancing almost nervously at the footman, “ you must do 
so. Do not stay away longer than you can help. Tell 
Mrs. Ferguson I have given you leave.” 

“Thank you, ma’am, I am extremely obliged,” 
answered Jacob. 

He left the conservatory, walking in his deliberate 
fashion through the drawing-room. In the lobby outside 
he came face to face with Hester Winsome. 

“ Well ? ” she said, looking at him interrogatively. 

“ Well? ” he replied, drawing himself full up. 

“ I saw you talking to my mistress,” said Hester. 
“ Were you asking a favour ? ” 

“ Yes and no,” replied Jacob. “ One of my relations 
is ill, and I am anxious to go to town to see her. Mrs. 


188 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Ferguson would not let me off because of all this fuss in 
connection with the big ball, so I went to Mrs. Rowton.” 

“How sly of you,” said Hester. “Of course, she, 
poor weakling, gave you leave.” 

“ You ought not to speak of your mistress like that. 
Miss Winsome. Yes, she gave me leave. She is a kind- 
hearted young lady. I’m off to town in an hour. Shall 
I bring you a pretty trifle when I return ? ” 

“That’s as you please,” answered Hester, with a 
smile. “ I may be going to town on my own account 
before long,” she added. “I am rather tired of 
Rowton Heights. It don’t seem the right sort of place 
for a girl like me. There’s nothing to excite one here — 
at least, nothing to excite one who has been used to 
London ways,” 

Jacob smiled. 

“You’ll have plenty of excitement next week,” he said, 
“ when all the grand folks are down. The house will be 
chock full, like an egg full of meat.” 

“Yes, won’t it?” said Hester. “They’re putting up 
beds everywhere. “ Now, don’t it seem stupid to crowd 
people like that when the Queen Anne wing would hold 
three or four more of the guests ? Why cannot beds be 
put in the Queen Anne wing ? ” 

“You are very unreasonable,” said Jacob. “How 
can a poor lady who is off her head be disturbed with 
company ? ” 

“Of course, I forgot,” answered the girl. “And the 
rats, too, might frighten the guests. Oh ! it’s best as it 
is, no doubt.” Her eyes flashed in a knowing way. 

“ By the way, Mr. Jacob,” she called out as the man 


THE MAN WITH THE MAEK. 


189 


was disappearing down one of the passages, “ have you 
heard the latest news ? ” 

** No,” he said, arresting his steps as he spoke. 

“Why, it is this,” answered Hester, running up to 
him, “ there’s been no end of a big burglary took place 
last night at Castle Stewart. The postman brought us 
the news this morning.” 

“ I have not heard anything of it,” replied Jacob. “ A 
burglary, did you say — not really ? ” 

“ Yes, really, and a very big one. The burglars got 
in through one of the upper windows — they say they 
had rope ladders with them and all kinds of modern 
contrivances — and they broke open the safe in Lady 
Arabella’s dressing-room, and took off all her jewels and 
a lot of plate from the butler’s pantry besides. The 
police are scouring the country to try and catch some of 
the thieves." 

“ It is a good thing we have one of Clever’s safes here,” 
remarked Jacob. 

He stood quite silent for a moment, evidently think- 
ing hard. Then he went to find Mrs. Ferguson to let 
her know that his young mistress had given him per- 
mission to take his holiday. 

That evening Crossley the detective was enjoying his 
pipe over a snug fire in his little house near Clapham 
Common. He had gone through a day of hard work, 
and was just in the humour to appreciate some well- 
earned rest, when his servant opened the door and 
announced a visitor. The next moment Short stood 
before him. 


190 


A SON OP ISHMAEL. 


•“ Here I am,” said that worthy. “ I got your cipher 
by the first post this morning and managed everything 
first rate. The house is full and will be still fuller, so 
I must take the first train back. And now what do you 
want of me ? ” 

“Sit down, Jacob,” said Crossley ; “if you are in a 
hurry I am more than willing to go to business at once. 
You seem, to judge by your letter, to be managing all 
right down in those parts.” 

“ Yes, I am making discoveries,” said Jacob ; “ and 
some which I fancy will surprise you. These I keep to 
myself for the present. The discoveries which relate to 
the special business which keeps me at Rowton Heights, 
I, of course, disclose to you.” 

“ Why not all your discoveries ? ” said Crossley. 

“ Because some are not ripe for disclosure at the 
present moment,” answered Jacob, in a terse voice. 
“The fact is this, a clue is a delicate matter — a clue 
seems to me to be often a sort of intangible thing. If 
you speak of it, it vanishes under your grip. But I 
repeat that things look well, and that I am doing good 
work.” 

“ Glad to hear it,” said Crossley, “ the part of your 
work which concerns me is what I am naturally anxious 
to hear about. You know what you went to Rowton 
Heights for ? ” '* 

“Rather,” said Jacob — “to get hold of the man who 
murdered young Mr. Follett.” 

“Yes, we must nab him soon, I fancy.” 

“ He requires careful handling,” said Jacob. “ Your 
clue to him at the present moment is a piece of paper 


THE MAN WITH THE MARK. 


191 


with a certain cipher and a certain hieroglyphic upon it 
— the man himself being marked in a peculiar way.” 

“Precisely,” said the detective, removing the pipe 
from his mouth, and looking hard into Jacob’s eyes. 

“You arrested a man lately who belonged to the 
Silver Mob,” continued Jacob. “ On examining his 
papers you found a letter, or part of a letter written in 
the same cipher, and signed with the same hiero- 
glyphics.” 

“ I did, I did. What is the good of going into that 
over again ? ” 

“I want to get it firm in my mind,” continued 
Jacob. “You sent me to Rowton Heights because 
your suspicions pointed to one man.” 

“ Good Heavens ! yes,” said Crossley, jumping up as 
he spoke. “ It is ridiculous for a man like me to feel 
anything, but you don’t know. Short, what I have suffered 
on account of these suspicions. The young lady wants 

to go on with this matter and yet ” 

• “ If jour suspicions and mine are correct,” continued 
Jacob in a calm voice, “the business will break her heart 
— still business is business. I don’t mean to drop the 
thing now. It is true at the present moment I have not 
found any cipher at Rowton Heights like that which you 
hold in your hands, but I think I see the way to doing 
so before long. I also believe that I shall discover the 
mark for which we are searching. It won’t be long, 
therefore, before we put our hands upon the man.” 

“And he is?” said Crossley, bending forward, his 
voice dropping to a whisper; “speak low, Jacob, for 
Heaven's sake I ” 


192 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

DAME ROWTON. 

Jacob Short returned the next day to Rowton Heights, 
and almost immediately afterwards the excitement and 
confusion incident to the great ball began. Many fresh 
servants were engaged for the occasion ; a string band 
from London was secured ; in short, no expense was 
spared to make the occasion a worthy one, and to render 
the ball as brilliant as possible. The old ball-room was 
too magnificent in itself to* require much decoration. 
The carved oak, which covered it from ceiling to floor, 
was re-polished, but the windows were not draped, 
Nature’s draping of ivy and old creepers being con- 
sidered far more effective than anything man could 
devise. The ball-room, which was over one hundred feet 
in length and thirty feet in breadth, was one of the most 
celebrated rooms in the whole county. In the old days, 
brave knights and fair ladies had held high revelry here. 
It was well known also that more than one personag* 
celebrated in the history of England had figured in the 
giddy mazes of the dance in the old room. For years 
it had been shut up, as misfortune and even poverty 
had come to the noble old family who for so many gene- 
rations had reigned at Rowton Heights. The occasion, 
therefore, of its being re-opened was considered a truly 
auspicious one, and certainly Rowton and his wife could 


DAME ROWTON. 


193 


not have discovered a more popular way of enter- 
taining the county than by allowing them to dance once 
more in the oak ball-room. It had been long years 
now since Rowton Heights had so resounded to mirth 
and merry-making. 

For days before the ball the house was full of eager 
and expectant guests. Smart young men from town and 
the prettiest girls of the neighbourhood gladly accepted 
invitations to stay at the Heights. The host and hostess 
were seen on this occasion at their very best. Nance, 
under her husband’s protecting wing, lost much of her 
inborn shyness. Her gentle beauty, her sweet low voice, 
her affectionate and sympathetic manner, could not fail 
to make her a universal favourite. As to Rowton, he 
was, as Lady Georgina Strong expressed it, every inch a 
man of the world, and, she was wont to add, fascinating 
at that. 

“ There is a certain air of mystery about your hus- 
band, Nancy,” she said on one occasion to the young 
wife, “which much adds to his attractions. He is 
delightful, gay, debonair ; but watch him, he never talks 
of himself. He never tells anybody what he does with 
his time.” 

“ With his time ? ” said Nance, looking slightly 
startled. “ What is there to tell ? ” 

“ I only allude to his mysterious absences,” said Lady 
Georgina in a light tone. “ Dear me, child, you need 
not turn so pale — he is with you now. He always was a 
favourite, and he will go on being so to his dying day. 
I sometimes wish he were a little more of a flirt, how- 
ever ; it would be glorious to have a flirtation with him. 

13 


194 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


How you open your eyes ! You think because he is 
your husband ” 

“ There are few men like Adrian,” said Nance, in a 

proud tone, “ and he ” — her lips trembled ; she could 

not get out the next words. 

“ You are a greedy little creature,” said Lady Georgina, 
who was watching her closely. “ You need not fear that 
he will ever flirt with anybody but you. Why, child, he 
loves you to distraction. I only say that I consider it 
scarcely fair of you to keep such a man all to yourself.” 

Nancy laughed almost gaily. She did not often 
laugh. There was an under vein of sadness in her, 
which not all her present great happiness could quite 
remove. 

Sweeping her arm round her waist^ Lady Georgina led 
her into the next room. 

“ Come,” she said, “ you must not hide your charms. 
You are too much of the violet in the shade. Don’t you 
know that you and your husband are simply worshipped 
by everyone in the house ? — you and your husband, and 
that dear manly boy, Murray.” 

“ Ah, anyone would love Murray,” said Nancy ; and 
this was true. 

The handsome little fellow had added to the merri- 
ment of this gay time. The excitement and pleasure 
were new to him, and he enjoyed the mirth and the 
merrymaking all the more in consequence. He and Roy 
obtruded themselves on all possible occasions. They 
made a picturesque addition to many a lovely scene, and 
added to the mirth when it was highest, and to the wit 
when it flowed most freely. 


DAME ROWTON. 


195 


The great day of the ball at last arrived, and Lady 
Georgina came over early to the Heights to help Nance 
and to hear the latest news. 

“ Not that there is anything special for me to do,” 
she said in an almost vexed voice as she flung herself 
into a chair in Nancy’s pretty boudoir. “ It seems to 
me that these are the days for idle hands — at least, 
where rich people are concerned. Money commands 
willing labour. Money banishes fatigue ; money destroys 
illusions. There was a time when I should have slaved 
myself to death to produce results which, by the magic 
wand of your money, Nance, can be made ten times 
more beautiful than any toil of mine could possibly effect. 
Well, never mind, you are the wife of the richest, the 
gayest, the most delightful man in the whole county. 
Ah, and here comes that angel of virtue to speak for 
himself. How go the festivities, my friend ? ” she con- 
tinued, holding out her hand to Rowton, who entered 
the boudoir at that moment. 

“ Swimmingly,”' he replied, seating himself on a sofa 
near her. “ There are so many people in the house that 
they entertain one another, and leave their host and 
hostess practically with nothing to do. As to the ball, I 
do not anticipate a hitch anywhere.” 

“ There’s one thing left to settle, fortunately for me,” 
said Lady Georgina, “and that is this young lady’s 
dress. I have not yet seen her in the Dame Rowton 
costume.” 

“No more you have, and no more have I,” said 
Rowton. “ The dress is all complete, is it not, Nance ? ” 

“ I believe so, ” she replied, somewhat indifferently. 

13* 


196 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“Hester told me that a box arrived from Madame 
Delaroi, of Bond Street, last night.” 

“ That genius, Delaroi I ” cried Lady Georgina. “ If 
Delaroi tries to get up the antique, then there is certain 
not to be a flaw in the costume. You sent her a photo- 
graph, did you not ? ” 

“We not only did that,” replied Rowton, “we had 
her down to examine the Gainsborough picture for her- 
self.” 

“ Once again, I must repeat, what will not money 
effect,” said Lady Georgina. She tapped her fingers 
playfully on the ivory handle of a large fan which she 
wore at her waist. 

“ Come,” she said, turning to Nance, “ you must put 
on your dress before the evening. Let me help you to 
do it now.” 

“ I don^t want to,” said Nance, somewhat lazily. 

“ But, my dear child, you must. Some trifling altera- 
tion may be necessary. Besides, I have come over to 
make myself useful, and useful I must be made. You 
will like to see the modern Dame Rowton when she is 
rigged out,” continued Lady Georgina, turning to 
Rowton. “ We will ring for you when we are ready to 
show you the exhibition.” 

Nance rose to accompany Lady Georgina to her 
dressing-room. On the way there she suddenly 
stopped. 

“ Now, what is the matter ? ” asked that good lady. 

“ Nothing,” said Mrs. Rowton ; “ only sometimes I am 
sick of so much dress and so much money.” There 
was a wistful and very sad tone in her voice. 


DAME ROWrON. 


197 


** Dear me, child, you would be much more sick if 
you had not got the dress and the money,” replied Lady 
Georgina in her brusque voice. “ Don’t quarrel with 
your lot, Nancy,” she added. “ Take the goods the gods 
give you with a thankful heart. There are few women 
so blessed.” 

They entered the dressing-room, and Nancy shut the 
door. 

“I know you are right,” she said, making an effort 
to recover her spirits, ‘‘and when Adrian is at home 
there is no woman in all the world whose heart is more 
full of thankfulness. Oh, I suffered when he was away,” 
she continued. “ I earnestly hope he will never leave 
me again.” 

“ Poor little girl ! ” said Lady Georgina. 

She paused for a moment, thinking somewhat deeply 
for her. 

“It would be unkind,” she said then, “to counsel you 
to wish for the impossible. You must take the sour with 
the sweet, the dark with the light, like all the rest of us, 
Mrs. Rowton. Your husband will certainly leave you 
again. He is a wanderer not only by nature, but by 
heredity. His father was one of the most celebrated 
travellers of his day. His grandfather could never stay 
three months in the same place, and as to Adrian, he has 
been already over the greater part of the world. Yes, 
my dear, he will of course, travel again, and leave you 
again, and come back to you again and rejoice your 
heart. Now let us be content with the happy present. 
Heigh ho ! for the beautiful dress. Shall we ring for 
your maid ? ” ^ 


198 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Let us manage without her,” said Nance. “ I do 
not like Hester,” she continued. “ Each day I dislike 
her more.” 

“ Then in the name of fortune, child, why do you keep 
her ? ” said Lady Georgina. “ You are surely your own 
mistress and can do just what you please.^’ 

“ Of course I am my own mistress,” answered Nance, 
“ but I do not like to give way to mere fancy, and the 
girl really serves me very well. Still,” she added, 
emphasis in her voice, “ I do not like Hester Winsome ; 
I know I never shall like her.” 

“ Did you ring for me, madam ? ” said Hester’s voice 
at that moment. 

Both ladies turned and started. Hester had advanced 
a few steps into the room. Her face looked serene and 
innocent. 

‘‘ I surely heard you ring for me, madam.” 

“ I did not ring,” answered Nancy. 

“Another time, knock before you enter a room, 
Hester,” said Lady Georgina in her curtest, shortest 
voice. 

“Yes, please do, Hester,” said Nancy; “but now that 
you are here, stay. I want to try on my new ball dress. 
You told me, did you not, that it had arrived from 
Madame Delaroi’s last night ? ” 

“ Yes, madam, it is in the large wardrobe.” 

Hester crossed the room as she spoke, opened a ward- 
robe, and took out a magnificent dress of the palest 
cream brocade, richly and heavily embroidered with seed 
pearls. 

“ Ah 1 ” cried Lady Georgina, “ that dress is worth 


DAME ROWTON. 


199 


looking at. It really makes my mouth water. For the 
third time, I say, what it is to be rich ! ” 

“ The dress is lovely,” said Nance. She went up to it. 
and, lifting the train, flung it over her arm. 

“ It is not only the material but the style,” said Lady 
Georgina. “ Why, it is unique, perfect. Madame 
Delaroi is a genius. See this enticing petticoat. Notice 
the train — the way it will set. You must be careful 
how you hold it up to-night, Nancy. See, oh, do see 
this fascinating little shoe with its pearl buckle. Get 
into your costume, my dear ; be quick about it. You 
will certainly be Gainsborough’s Dame Rowton come 
alive.” 

“ If I might venture to speak, madam,” said Hester, 
“ I think your hair ought to be arranged to correspond 
with the dress, or it will be impossible to judge of the 
general effect. The hair must, of course, be piled up 
very high on the head and powdered.” 

“Yes; but I cannot wait for that just now,” said 
Nance. 

“You must, Nance : we really must see the thing com- 
plete,” said Lady Georgina. 

“ Well, if I must, I must,” replied Mrs. Rowton. 

She sat down before her glass with a good-humoured 
sigh. 

“ There are some disadvantages in being rich,” she 
said, smiling up into Lady Georgina’s face. 


200 


A SON OF ISHMAEL, 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE BLACK DIAMOND AGAIN. 

While Hester was busy dressing Nancy’s hair Lady 
Georgina seated herself near, and began chatting volubly 
as usual. 

“ By the way,” she said, after a moment’s pause, “ I 
am told there has been another robbery in the neigh- 
bourhood. The burglars broke into Belton Priory last 
night. Fortunately they were heard before they com- 
mitted much mischief.” 

Nance listened to this information with somewhat 
languid interest, but Hester, who was sweeping some of 
her mistress’s beautiful hair over a high pillow, started 
violently, and dropped the pad which she was using to 
the floor. When she raised her head again after stooping 
to pick it up, her whole face was scarlet. 

Lady Georgina, whose bright eyes took in everything, 
noticed her sudden increase of colour. 

“The ruffians escaped,” she continued, speaking in 
her quick incisive voice, “ but I believe they carried off 
very little. Of course, at Castle Stewart the loss of 
plate and jewels is considerable. The Belton Priory 
people have got off much better. I cannot imagine,” 
continued the good lady, tapping her feet impatiently, 
“what the police are made of in these days. How is it 
that they cannot get the faintest trace of these burglars ? 


THE BLACK DIAMOND AGAIN. 


201 


It is reported that they belong to a certain gang, called 
the Silver Mob.” 

“ How much you seem to know about burglars,” said 
Nance, shuddering slightly as she spoke. “Do they 
really go about in gangs ? ” 

“ I believe so, very often,” said Lady Georgina, after 
a pause. “ They say the Silver Mob is very well-known 
to the police ; that it has also existed for a long time. But 
the members are so clever and so widely scattered, that 
it is almost impossible to collect evidence sufficient to 
arrest any of them.” 

“Well, I hope none of the burglars will come here,” 
said Nance. 

Her hair was finished now, and she rose from her 
seat Hester helped her put on the beautiful dress, 
and Lady Georgina amused herself hopping round, 
pulling out the train, and ejaculating over it in various 
staccato exclamations of delight 

A knock was heard at the door, and Rowton put in 
his head. 

“ Is the dressing complete ? ” he asked. 

“ Yes, pray come in,” called out Nance. 

Hester was putting the finishing touches to the beauti- 
ful robe. Nance turned and faced her husband. 

“ My darling,” he cried, “ powder does not look well 
by daylight” 

“ One moment,” said Lady Georgina. 

She went to the window, drew down the blinds, pulled 
the curtains across, and turned on the electric light. 

“ Now,” she said, “ speak the truth. Was there ever a 
bonnier, a more lovely resurrection ? ” 


202 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ Hail ! fair dame,” said Rowton. 

He fell suddenly on one knee with a fantastic gesture, 
and kissed the tip of Nancy’s slender hand. 

“ You are complete but for your jewels,” he said. “ I 
will fetch them.” 

“No; to-night will do,” she answered. 

“ I think you can leave us now,” said Lady Georgina, 
turning to Hester, who was standing submissive and sub- 
dued in the background. 

“Yes, certainly, Hester, I do not require you any 
longer,” said Nance. 

“ Thank you, madam,” replied the girl. 

She went softly across the room, opened the door, 
went out, and shut it behind her. 

Rowton was still busy examining .the dress. 

“I am going for the jewels,” he repeated. “We 
must see the effect complete.” 

“ It really is not safe, Mr. Rowton, to have jewels lying 
about at the present moment,” said Lady Georgina. 
“We were talking about those mysterious burglaries 
which are taking place in the neighbourhood just when 
you came in.” 

“Ah, of course,” said Rowton. “ How clever burglars 
are in the present day ! Have the police yet got the 
least inkling as to the scoundrels who have broken into 
Castle Stewart ? ” 

“ Not they. Police, I think, are born without brains,” 
said Lady Georgina in a fretful tone. “But the 
Stewarts are not the only victims. The Frasers at Belton 
Priory have also had their place broken into.” 

“You don’t say so ! ” cried Rowton. 


THE BLACK DIAMOND AGAIN. 


203 


** Yes, if is a fact. The attempted burglary took place 
last night, between ten and eleven o’clock. Fortunately, 
as I say, it was in this case only an attempted burglary. 
The old butler gave the alarm, and the ruffians decamped 
without doing much mischief. They had only just got 
into the butler’s pantry, and had not even begun to 
attack the safe. I am told that they made off with some 
spoons and a few other articles of plate, but nothing 
really worth speaking about The case was very 
different at Castle Stewart, and, unless the police get 
quickly on their scent, the mischief will never be re- 
paired. Poor Lady Arabella is, I hear, inconsolable. 
She has lost, among other treasures, her famous rose 
diamond.” 

“The police are sure to find the brutes in the 
end,” said Rowton. He came close to Nance as he 
spoke, and softly rearranged the setting of one of her 
sleeves. “ Did you really say that Lady Arabella had 
lost her rose diamond?” he said, turning to Lady 
Georgina. 

“ Yes ; the old family heirloom, estimated as worth 
quite sixty thousand pounds.” 

“ A gem of that kind will certainly be traced,” said 
Rowton. “Still,” he added, “as you say, the whole 
thing is preposterous. To think of men in the latter end 
of the nineteenth century being able to break into a 
house in the dead of night and take away jewels out of 
some of those marvellous modern safes, quite beats my 
comprehension. It is a good thing that we have got one 
of Clever’s safes here.” 

“ Yes ; you are in luck,” said Lady Georgina. “ There’s 


204 


A SON OP ISHMAEL. 


not a house in the whole country which contains so much 
plate and valuables as this.” 

“True,” said Rowton, tapping his fingers on the 
back of Nancy’s chair. “ Well,” he added, starting as if 
from a reverie, “ as we have the treasures we must use 
them. There will be a good lot of plate out to-night, 
and Nance must wear her jewels — or, at least, jewels 
suitable to her dress. I’ll go and fetch them.” 

He left the room. 

In a few moments he returned with an old leather 
case, which he unlocked, and exhibited before Lady 
Georgina’s delighted eyes a magnificent selection of 
pearls, rubies, and diamonds. 

“ Pearls are the right ornaments for that dress,” he 
said, glancing at his young wife, “and I think,” he 
added, “ I have got the very thing.” 

As he spoke he touched a secret spring in the box. A 
drawer flew open, revealing a single string of pearls, each 
nearly the size of a robin’s egg. Rowton lifted it out 
and clasped it round Nancy’s soft white neck. 

“ There,” he said, “ you are complete now. Anything 
further would spoil the effect.” 

Nancy went up to the glass to examine herself. 

“ Are these heirlooms ? ” she asked. 

“ Of course, dearest. Lady Georgina, don’t you re- 
member them?” 

“ Yes,” she replied. “ I saw them last on your 
mother’s neck. I was a tiny child at the time, but the 
unusual size of the pearls attracted me. What is the 
matter, Mrs. Rowton ? — you look disturbed.” 

“ It is our house-warming, and I want to wear one of 


THE BLACK DIAMOND AGAIN. 


205 


your presents to me,” said Nance, going up to her 
husband. “You spoke of a black diamond. I have not 
seen it yet.” 

“ A black diamond ! ” cried Lady Georgina ; “ you 
surely do not mean to say, you lucky people, that you 
possess a priceless treasure of that sort. There are only 
a few really valuable black diamonds in the whole world.” 

“ Strange as it may seem,” said Rowton in a careless 
tone, “ I happened to pick one up when I was abroad. 
It is a strange gem, and I was able to get it cheap. Yes, 
Nance, you shall wear the black diamond, if you like to- 
night. I’ll fetch it at once.” 

When he left the room, Lady Georgina went to the 
door and locked it. 

“ I want to say something to you,” she said, lowering 
her voice to a whisper as she approached Nancy’s side. 
“You must be very careful about your jewels. Don’t 
leave those pearls about when you go downstairs. I 
agree with you in not liking that maid of yours. What 
is more, I begin to suspect her.” 

“ Suspect her ? What about ? ” asked Mrs, Rowton. 

“ I cannot exactly say. But did you notice how she 
changed colour, how evidently confused she was when I 
spoke about the big robbery at Castle Stewart, and the 
attempted one at Belton Priory ? ” 

“No, I observed nothing,” said Nance. 

“You have no suspicion in you, child; but I tell you 
I am certain Hester Winsome is not straight. Half 
these burglaries are committed through the connivance 
of girls like her. Ah, here comes your husband with the 
black diamond. I really am devoured by curiosity.” 


206 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Lady Georgina flew to unlock the door. Rowton 
came back bearing a small case in his hand. He touched 
the spring, and the case flew open. An enormous 
diamond of the purest water, but in colour as black as 
coal, lay on its satin bed within. The diamond was set 
in heavy gold, to which a pin was attached; and the 
gem was evidently meant to be worn in the hair. With- 
out a word, but nevertheless with fingers which slightly 
trembled, Rowton lifted the treasure from its bed, and 
placed it in his wife’s powdered locks. 

“ There,” he said, “ come and see yourself once again 
in the glass. I guessed that this queer stone would fit 
you to perfection. You are so fair that the sort of 
devildom of the thing comes out all the better from 
contrast.” 

“Upon my word, that diamond looks almost un- 
canny,” cried Lady Georgina. “ What possessed you to 
get it for your wife ? ” 

“ Because of its rarity, and because I am rather fond 
of the uncanny,” said Rowton, with a slight laugh. 
“The price of this gem, like a good woman, is above 
rubies.” 

“ Well, it certainly is magnificent,” said Lady Geor- 
gina. “ It will be remarked by everyone in the room.” 

“Why not? I mean it to be,” answered Rowton. 

“ Those tiresome burglars who are hovering round 
the neighbourhood had better not get wind of it,” con- 
tinued Lady Georgina. “ If they do, they are certain to 
have a try for this house and its treasures.” 

“ I am afraid that fact will not prevent Nance from 
wearing her husband’s present,” said the master of the 


THE BLACK DIAMOND AGAIN. 207 

Heights in a careless tone. ** It sends out queer rays, 
does it not ? — rays not of day but night.” 

** Adrian, I am half afraid of it,” said Nance. 

She put up her hand, took the pin from her hair, and 
looked at the sparkling dark gem with a frightened ex- 
pression on her face. 

“You poor dear little mass of superstition,” said 
Rowton ; “ what can there be to frighten you in your 
husband’s present ? ” 

“Not in your present,” she answered, “only I wish it 
were not black.” 

“ Wear it for my sake, sweetheart,” he said. “ I have 
taken a fancy to it. It has a queer incomprehensible 
look. You take my fancy in it.” He sank his voice as 
he spoke until it thrilled with suppressed passion. 

“ Then I will wear it gladly for you,” she said in as 
low a whisper. 

Lady Georgina turned and walked to the window. 

“ It is tiresome sometimes being in the room alone 
with such a pair of crazy lovers,” she murmured to 
herself. 

Aloud, she said, after a moment’s pause, turning and 
speaking to Rowton : 

“ Have you ever heard of the Silver Mob ? ” 

“ The Silver Mob ! ” he replied. “No, I can't say 
that I have. Who are they ? What are they ? ” 

“ A notorious gang of burglars. They say that the 
robberies in this neighbourhood are being committed by 
them.” 


208 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

KIDNAPPED. 

The great house-warming at Rowton Heights was never 
forgotten by anyone who was present at it. The merry 
ball was not only remembered on account of the grand 
festivity itself, but because of that mystery and tragedy 
which immediately followed it. At the time it went, as 
Rowton had prophesied, without a single hitch. Rowton 
was now a king, and Nance was a queen. The king 
had come in for his own again, and the county rejoiced. 
Pretty Nance, or Dame Rowton, as the guests called her 
on account of her quaint and lovely dress, was the un- 
doubted belle of the occasion. She suited the quaint 
rich costume to perfection. Her slim young figure, her 
delicate features, the bloom of youth on her cheeks, 
the sparkle of hope and happiness in her eyes, gave to 
her beauty a unique and almost spiritual appearance. 
She might have really lived in the days she so cunningly 
represented. There was a certain ethereal quality about 
her which made her appear at times, and under certain 
emotions, more spirit than flesh ; but hers was the sort 
of beauty which no man has ever been known to resist^ 
There was something womanly, essentially gentle, about 
her. It was impossible to connect unkindness, want of 
charity, or any of the vices with that sweet face. 

Nance was one of those people who feel so much that, 


KIDNAPPED. 


209 


like an ^olian harp, each breath which blew upon her 
brought out some fresh attribute of her bright spirit. 
Never for long could the charming face look the same. 
One half hour the cheeks would be bright, the eyes 
shining, the rosebud lips would part with smiles ; the 
next, all the colour would have fled, the pathetic eyes 
would look full of undefined trouble, the lips would be 
too faintly coloured for health ; laughter would then be 
banished, and the grave face would be too thouglitful 
for its youth. 

To-night, however, Nance showed little of the more 
sombre side of her character ; the place, the occasion, 
the presence of her dearly beloved husband, all helped 
to raise her to a state of exaltation. She gave herself 
up to the happiness of the occasion and the hour. 

“ What a couple those two make ! said more than 
one guest as the husband and wife received their guests 
near the principal entrance. 

“ And what a charming little cavalier that boy is ! ** 
said a lady who was devoted to children, and whose 
eyes wandered over Murray^s handsome little figure 
with a certain thrill of sympathy. 

The little fellow was dressed as a cavalier of the time 
of Charles I., and the dress suited his picturesque dark 
beauty to perfection. 

How like his uncle he is ! everyone said. 

Once the boy heard the words. He glanced round 
with a flash in his eyes, and said excitedly : 

“ I^m so delighted you say that. I want to be like 
Uncle Adrian — that is, in mosf things.” 

He did not add any more. He was devoting himself 

14 


210 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


just thea to Lady Georgina, who, amused with his manly 
airs, condescended to dance with him once or twice. 

“This is our dance,” he said, running up to her. 
“ Fm so glad it is not a square dance. I hate square 
dances. This is a right down jolly waltz. There^s 
nothing like a waltz, is there ? ” 

“ No, when you are young, and it does not turn you 
giddy,” said Lady Georgina. 

“ Well, you are young enough,” he said, looking up 
at her. 

“ And so are you,” she replied with a laugh. 

“ I wish I were ojder,” he said. “If I were older, we 
might be betrothed, might we not ? ” 

“I don’t think age matters,” said Lady Georgina, 
“ we can be betrothed if you like.” . 

“ Do you mean it really ? ” 

Murray’s face glowed with delight. 

“ It is really nice to be engaged,” he said, after a pause, 
“ and you are a tall lady. I always said I would have 
a tall lady to be my wife, for then she might become 
something like Aunt Nancy. Come on, won’t you? 
Don’t let us waste lose a minute of this dance.” 

Lady Georgina stepped into the middle of the room, 
and she and Murray danced together to the amusement 
of many people who watched them. As they approached 
the other end of the ball-room, they suddenly came 
plump up against Hester Winsome. She was passing 
through the room with a tray of glasses in her hands. 
Lady Georgina’s dislike to this girl was increasing each 
moment. She stopped now to reprimand her. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” she said. “ Do you 



‘‘ What are you doing here ? Do you know it is very wrong of you to 
bring glasses into the ball-room ? ” 


— Page 211 . 



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KIDNAPPED. 


211 


know that it is very wrong of you to bring glasses into 
the ball-room? We might have knocked them all 
over.” 

“ I am really sorry, madam,” said Hester, dropping a 
curtsey as she spoke. “ I know I ought to have gone 
round by the corridor outside, but this part of the room 
seemed quite clear just for the moment, and Jacob was in 
a hurry. He sent me flying for some fresh glasses. I am 
very sorry, of course.” 

“Well, don^t do it again,” said Lady Georgina, “and 
go away now ; this is no place for you.” 

Hester tripped across the room, carrying her glasses 
deftly. Lady Georgina and Murray prepared to resume 
their dance. Suddenly Hester's face was seen in the 
doorway. 

“ Master Murray, may I speak to you for a moment ? ” 
she called out. 

“ What can you want, Hester ? ” cried the boy. “ I 
am very busy just now. I can't leave my partner.” 

“ I won't keep you long, sir ; there's something you 
‘ought to know.” 

Hester's face looked really troubled. 

“ I wonder what she wants,” said Murray to Lady 
Georgina. “ Would you mind very much if I went to 
her?” 

“ No, dear,” was the reply, “I’ll sit on the window 
ledge and wait for you.” 

“Please don't give our dance to anybody else.” 

“No, I will keep it for you, my little lover,” said 
I^dy Georgina, kissing her hand to the handsome 
boy. 

14* 


212 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


He laughed back at her and ran out of the ball-room. 
The moment he did so, Hester took his hand, and led 
him a step or two into the supper room. 

“ I really cannot stay with you, Hester,” he said ; 
“ what can you possibly want with me now ? ” 

“ I am very sorry to bother you, Master Murray,” said 
the girl, “ but the fact is, I am in an awful fright. I am 
terribly afraid your poor mother has managed to get 
loose, sir.” 

“ My mother ! Oh, what do you mean ? ” 

“ What I say. Master Murray. I was going through 
the garden just now, and I saw someone dressed as your 
mother dresses running and dodging just behind the 
laurel shrubs. If she did get loose, she would think 
nothing of going into the ball-room and frightening 
everyone. I wanted to see Mr. Rowton about it, and 
hoped he might be at the lower end of the room.” 

“ Shall I try and fetch him for you ? ” said Murray. 

“No, sir, it is not necessary; you’ll do just as well as 
my master.” 

“II” said Murray. His little face turned pale as it 
always did when his mother was mentioned. “ Perhaps 
you know, Hester,” he said with a sigh, “ that mother 
is not very fond of me. I do not see how 1 am to find 
her.” 

“ Of course not, my little gentleman,” said the girl. 
“Leah is the one who ought to do that. Now, if anyone 
could be got to run round to the Queen Anne wing, 
Leah would soon put matters straight. I’d go myself, 
but there’s such a heap to be done that I really haven’t 
a single moment.” 


KIDNAPPED. 


213 


“ Hester, stop talking there and come and help us,” 
said Jacob from the other end of the room. 

“Yes, Jacob, I’m coming. Please, Master Murray, 
would you help us, sir ? ” 

“If I can. Do you want me to go to the Queen 
Anne wing ? ” 

“ Oh, sir, if you only would.” 

“ But I am never allowed to go there.” 

“That don’t matter, sir, on an occasion like the 
present.” Hester slipped her hand into her pocket as 
she spoke. “ Here is the key of the little postern gate 
in the garden,” she said, lowering her voice. “You* 
know the Queen Anne garden, of course. Master 
Murray ? ” 

“ Of course I do,” answered Murray. 

“Will you go there now, sir? You can open the 
postern gate easily ; then you have only to run across 
the garden, and tap with your knuckles on the back 
door. Leah will be there to hear, for she is expecting 
me round with a bit of supper presently. I promised I 
would bring her over a trayful. Go, Master Murray, be 
quick, tell her what I said.” 

“ Of course I will,” said Murray. “ It would never 
do for mother to frighten the people in the ball-room.” 

He ran off quickly. The mere thought of his mother 
had always the power to depress him, but his spirits 
were high to-night. 

He soon found the postern door, and let himself in. 
The garden was not large ; he quickly ran across it, and 
found the back door of the house. Here he knocked 
with his knuckles as Hester had desired him to do. His 


214 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


first knock was unanswered. He repeated it in some 
impatience. This time he was evidently heard. He 
saw through the fanlight overhead the light of a candle 
coming nearer and nearer. The next moment the door 
was cautiously opened, and a voice said, in muffled 
tones : 

“ Who is there 

“It’s me,' Murray Cameron,” said the child. 

“Then you are just the person we want, Murray 
Cameron,” answered the voice. 

A hand was cautiously put out, and the child was 
pulled into the house. The candle was immediately 
extinguished ; a cloth was thrown over the little fellow’s 
face. He found himself lifted into somebody’s arms 
and carried — he did not know where. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A “plant.” 

Until the daylight dawned in the far east the merry 
ball went on. Even with daylight the happy dancers 
were scarcely willing to give up such glorious fun ; but 
the happiest times must come to an end, and at long 
length the sound of the last carriage wheels was heard 
to die away upon the gravel outside the old house. 
The guests who were staying in the house retired to 
their various rooms, and Nance, Lady Georgina, and 
Rowton found themselves for a moment alone together. 

“ I am dead tired, of course,” said Lady Georgina, 
“ but I really may as well say frankly that I P#»vpr had 


A “PLANT.” 


216 


a better time in my life. The whole thing was so young 
and yet so old.” 

“ What do you mean by that conundrum ? ” asked 
Rowton with a careless laugh. 

“ Must I unriddle my riddle? ” she replied. “Well, 
then, here’s the answer. The ball was young because it 
was spirited and absolutely unconventional ; it was old 
because it seemed to partake of a certain last century 
flavour — the room, the situation, certain memories, all 
conspired to that ; but most of all was the last century 
flavour accentuated by Dame Rowton’s presence.” 
Here Lady Georgina gave a mock but graceful bow in 
pretty Nancy’s direction. “ Have I explained myself ? ” 
she said, turning her bright eyes full on Rowton’s some- 
what flushed but handsome face. 

“Perfectly,” he replied. “You have the gift. Lady 
Georgina, of making very neat compliments. Now I 
vote that we all go to bed and discuss the charms of 
our house-warming to-morrow.” 

“ By the way,” said Lady Georgina, as she prepared to 
leave the room, “ I missed one person towards the end 
of the evening. Who was it ordered little Murray off 
to bed so early ? ” 

“ Murray to bed ! ” exclaimed Nancy. “ Why, surely 
he never went to bed. He begged of me to let him stay 
up during the entire night, and, perhaps not very wisely, 
I gave him leave. The fact is, I did not think the child 
could sleep with so much noise going on.” 

“Nevertheless, he must have gone to bed,” said 
Lady Georgina, “for I have not seen him for several 
hours. He was dancing with me, having a very good 


216 


A SON OF ISHMAEL, 


time, and making outrageous proposals, the monkey, 
that I should be his future wife. He was called out 
of the room by your maid, Hester Winsome, but pro- 
mised to be back in a moment. He never came back, 
however.” 

“ Mrs. Ferguson may have sent Hester to speak to 
him,” said Nance after a pause; “she is quite a dragon 
about early hours for the boy. I wonder he did not 
appeal to me. Poor little dear, he must have been dis- 
appointed if he was banished off to bed when he ex- 
pected so thoroughly to enjoy himself.” 

“The boy was much better in bed,” said Rowton 
suddenly ; “ don’t fret yourselves about him now. Good- 
night, Lady Georgina.” 

He held out his hand as he spoke. The lady took it, 
favoured him with a full admiring glance, kissed Nance 
on her cheek, and left the room. 

“ Now, Nancy, to bed, to bed. I cannot keep my 
eyes open a moment longer,” said her husband. He 
took her hand and they ran upstairs. 

A fire burnt in the beautiful bed-room ; the doors of 
the two dressing-rooms were wide open — fires were also 
blazing there. Through the drawn curtains, with their 
soft shadows of rose colour, peeped in the first rays of 
the dawn. 

“ How horribly dissipated I feel,” said Nance with a 
smile. “ The fact is, I have never in the whole course 
of my life spent the entire night dancing before.” 

“You have enjoyed everything, have you not, 
dearest ? ” 

“Almost beyond the point of enjoyment,” she replied. 


A “PLANT. 


217 


“My happiness was so great that I felt, to allude to an 
old superstition, * fey,* as they express it’* 

“ Nonsense, little woman,** replied her husband. 
“ This is the beginning, let us trust, of many scenes as 
gay, as fresh and invigorating.** 

Nance moved a step or two nearer to Rowton as he 
spoke. A ray of sunshine at that moment pierced 
through the rose curtains and fell across her face and 
figure. It gave her a sort of unearthly beauty. Rowton 
went up to her, put his arms round her, and clasped her 
to his heart. 

“ What is there about you, child,” he said, “ which 
moves all the best in me ? The dead, forgotten good 
stirs feebly once again in my breast.** 

“ But you are good. Why will you ever and always 
run yourself down ? ** she said, a note of pain in her 
voice. 

“ To you I am what I seem,** he said ; “ for you I 
could, devil that I am — yes, Nancy, for you I could 
almost become an angel.** He unloosed her suddenly as 
he said the words. “ Get to bed, child,” he said ; “ take 
off those pearls and that diamond.** 

Nance put her hand to her head, took the black 
diamond from her hair, and then slipped the row of 
pearls from her neck. 

“ I am glad to be rid of these priceless treasures,** she 
said. “ Had you not better take them down to the safe 
at once, Adrian ? Is it wise to keep them here till the 
morning ? ** 

“ It is morning now,** he said, with a yawn ; “ burglars 
do not come in broad daylight; the jewels can lie with 


218 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


perfect safety in your dressing-room till we get up. 
Now I am going to tumble into bed as fast as ever I 
can.” 

He went into his dressing-room as he spoke, and 
Nancy rather slowly and with a certain unwillingness, 
which she could not account for, went to hers. 

To her surprise and by no means to her pleasure, 
Hester, looking pale and worn, was waiting for her. 

“ Why are you here, Hester ? ” exclaimed her mistress. 
I particularly told you that I did not wish you to stay 
up.” There was some annoyance in Nancy^s gentle voice. 

“Yes, ma’am, you are very kind and thoughtful,” 
replied the maid, lowering her eyes as was her invariable 
habit, “but I could not possibly let you unlace your 
dress.” 

“ My husband could have done it. I really wish you 
had obeyed me,” said Nance. “ Well, as you are up you 
had better do what is necessary. Please give me my 
jewel-case from the dressing-table; I want to put the 
pearls and this diamond into it.” 

Hester took up a beautiful morocco jewel-case, un- 
locked it and held it out before her mistress. Nancy 
put the string of pearls and the diamond in the top com- 
partment of the case. 

“ It is a queer, untanny sort of stone,” remarked 
Hester, looking at the black diamond as she spoke. 

Nancy did not reply. Hester locked the case and 
gave her mistress the key. 

“ If you have no objection, ma’am,” she said, after a 
pause, “ would it not be best to put this ca’fee into the 
safe?” 


A “PLANT.” 


219 


“ No ; it is quite unnecessary,” replied Nancy : ** you 
can put it on the shelf in my wardrobe; and if you are 
nervous you can give me the key of the wardrobe.” 

I will certainly do so, ma’am ; it is really not wise to 
have jewel-cases of this sort about when burglars are 
known to be in the neighbourhood.” 

“ I am perfectly sick of the subject of those tiresome 
burglars,” said Nancy. 

Hester made no remark at all to this, and soon after- 
wards left her mistress. 

The tired household slept long and late, unsuspicious 
of any danger. It was between nine and ten the 
following morning when Nancy suddenly opened her eyes. 
She started up in bed, and was about to ring her bell to 
summon Hester, when the young woman hurriedly 
opened the bedroom door and stood on the threshold 
with a scared and absolutely deathlike face. 

‘‘ Oh, madam, Fm so glad you are awake,” she said. 
“ Vickers said you ought certainly to be aroused at once, 
and yet I did not like to do it.” 

‘‘What is the matter, Hester? How terrified you 
look ! ” cried Nancy. 

“Oh, I am, madam. Please will you wake Mr. 
Rowton ; Vickers wishes to see him immediately.” 

“ Go into my dressing-room. I’ll be there in no time,” 
said Nancy. 

Hester closed the bedroom door softly behind her. 

“Adrian, dear, wake; you are wanted at once,” 
cried Nancy. 

Rowton opened his eyes with a start. 


220 


A SON OF ISHMAEL 


“ What is it ? ” he cried 

Vickers wants you ; I am afraid there is something 
wrong. Hester came to the door to call us ; she looked 
so frightened.” 

“ Vickers wahts me ! ” repeated Rowton. “ I don^t 
know that there is anything to alarm one in that. I am 
afraid he must wait for a little, however. I feel 
much too sleepy to get out of bed at present.” He 
turned on his pillow as he spoke, and wrapped the bed- 
clothes round him. 

But you really must get up, Adrian. Hester^s face 
looked positively terrified. I know there is something 
grave the matter.” 

Somewhat unwillingly Rowton sat up in bed, yawning 
as he did so. 

“ My dearest,” he said, noticing how Nancy’s hand 
trembled, “there is probably nothing at all to alarm 
anyone. Servants are always taking fright. You have 
not been long at the head of an establishment of this 
sort ; if you had, you would not put yourself out simply 
on account of a scared face. In all probability Vickers 
misses one of the spoons, and thinks the gang of burglars 
who are haunting this neighbourhood have broken into 
the house. I do wish the police would nab those fellows, 
in order to give us all quiet nights.” 

“ I wish, Adrian, you would get up. I am quite con- 
vinced it is worse than you imagine,” said Nancy. 

She went into her dressing-room as she spoke. 

To her surprise and consternation both Hester and 
Mrs. Ferguson were waiting for her there. The house- 
keeper was on the verge of hysterics. 


A “Plant; 


221 


“The most frightful, awful thing has happened,” she 
cried ; “ we cannot find Master Murray high nor low, 
and Vickers says some people meddled with the safe 
last night. He says a lot of the plate and most of the 
jewels are gone, and, oh, ma’am, look, look I ” 

Nancy turned quickly round. The housekeeper was 
pointing ro her wardrobe, which had been broken open. 
A glance showed her that her small private jewel-case, 
the case in which she had put the pearls and diamonds, 
had been abstracted. 

“ Don’t be so frightened,” she said to Mrs. Ferguson ; 
“ I’ll go back at once and tell my husband. Of course 
the burglars will soon be caught. But what did you say 
about Murray ? ” 

“ That is the worst of all, ma’am, to my thinking — 
the child is missing ; he can’t be found high nor low.” 

“ Murray missing 1 You must be dreaming,” said 
Nancy. 

“No, I am not, ma’am; we have searched all over 
the place for him. He never lay in his bed at all last 
night, the blessed lamb. Where he is Heaven only 
knows. 

“ Who saw him last ? ” asked Nancy. 

“ I did,” said Hester, suddenly coming forward. 

She spoke with a catch in her voice ; her face was 
deadly pale. She was scarcely able to keep steady; 
and, staggering slightly, leant up against the wall. 

“Tell me everything, and be quick,” said Mrs. 
Rowton hurriedly, beginning to dress as she spoke. 

“ I believe that I was the last person to see the young 
gentleman,” replied Hester. “ The fact is this, ma’am : 


222 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


I got a fright just between ten and eleven last night 
soon after the ball opened. I saw, or fancied I saw, a 
lady flitting about in the garden. You remember, ma’am, 
there was a moon, but there were lots of black clouds, 
and the light was always being shut away by the clouds 
going across the moon ; but just for the minute it shone 
out quite bright, and I distinctly saw a woman running 
and stooping as she ran close to the laurel hedge. I 
seemed to recognise the dress, and I thought at once 
that poor Mrs. Cameron had got loose. I wanted to tell 
my master, for I knew it would be awful if she ran into 
the ball-room. I made an excuse to get into the room, 
hoping that Mr. Rowton ^ might be somewhere within 
sight ; but I only caught sight of Master Murray, and it 
occurred to me that I would ask him- to help me.” 

“You did very wrong,” said Nancy; “you know, or 
you must know, that it is not safe for the boy to be with 
his mother. Well, go on, be quick.” 

“ I had no time to think, madam, and besides, I am 
not supposed to know anything.” Hester made an effort 
to give her head its old pert toss. “ I managed to get 
Master Murray out of the ball-room,” she continued, 
“ and I asked him to run across to the wing and tell 
Leah at once that Mrs. Cameron had escaped. He ran 
off quite willingly. I gave him the key of the postern 
door, which opens into the Queen Anne garden.” 

“And the child has never come back? You must 
be making a mistake,” cried Nancy. 

“ It is true, ma’am ; alas ! it is true,” sobbed Mrs. 
Ferguson. “ I was over with Leah this morning, and 
she says she never saw the boy, and never heard him 


A “PLANT.’ 


223 


knock, and Mrs. Cameron did not escape at all last 
night, but at the very time that Hester fancied she saw 
her, was sound asleep in bed. Oh, I dread to think 
what has happened — burglars breaking into the house, 
and the child gone, kidnapped most like. Oh, the plate 
and jewels are nothing — it is the child.” 

“ Yes ; it is the child,” said Nancy. 

She had dressed herself now. The very magnitude 
and imminence of the catastrophe which had suddenly 
overtaken her, gave her a certain feeling of strength. 
She remembered that queer sense of being “ fey ” last 
night ; she remembered the words which she had spoken 
to her husband. 

“ Well,” she said, looking at the two terrified women, 
“ you have done right to tell me ; don’t be over 
frightened; try and keep yourselves calm. The boy 
will, of course, be found immediately. I’ll go now and 
tell Mr. Rowton.” 

She ran into the next room, but Rowton had already 
dressed and gone downstairs. The direful tidings had, 
of course, been broken to him by Vickers. 

Nance at last came face to face with her husband in 
the butler’s pantry. There a scene of the utmost con- 
fusion and destruction met her astonished eyes. The 
celebrated Clever safe, which was supposed to be proof 
against any burglar in the land, had been burst open by 
means of certain explosives, which had probably been 
introduced through a joint in the side. The safe had 
been nearly completely rifled of its contents. The 
secret receptacle for the jewel case had been discovered, 
and the splendid Rowton diamonds, with many other 


224 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


valuable and priceless jewels, had disappeared; the 
gold plate had also completely vanished. In short, the 
burglars had possessed themselves of many thousand 
pounds’ worth of valuable goods. 

“Here’s a wreck,” said Rowton, turning to Nance 
when she appeared. His face was pale, and his under- 
lip shook. “ You see what this boasted safe is worth, 
after all,” he continued. 

“Yes, yes; but the jewels are nothing,” panted 
Nancy, “ it is the child. Who minds about the jewels 
or the plate ? Oh, Adrian, it is Murray.” 

“ Murray ! ” cried the man ; “ what in the world do 
you mean ? What has Murray to do with this ? ” 

“Nothing, of course,” said Nancy, tottering as she 
spoke, “ only they seem to have stolen him, too. He 
cannot be found anywhere ; Murray is lost.” 

For answer Rowton took his wife’s hand with that 
grip of iron which had hurt her so much on the night 
of her arrival at the Heights. 

“ Come into my study,” he said in a voice which he 
scarcely recognised as his own. He shut the door when 
he got there, and turned her round to face him. 

“Now, tell me everything,” he said. 

“ Why do you look like that ? ” she replied. 

“ Don’t mind my looks. Tell me everything, 
quickly.” 

Nance repeated the story which Hester had told 
her, 

“ A plant ! ” muttered Adrian under his breath. 

“ What did you say, Adrian ? I did not hear 
you.’' 


INVISIBLE INK. 


226 


** The devil is in this job, Nancy,” he replied ; “ for 
Heaven^s sake, leave me for a moment.” 

“ Do you really think any harm has happened to the 
little fellow ? ” 

“ Harm ? God only knows. Would I had never 
been born. Leave me, wife; I shall go mad if your 
innocent eyes look into mine a moment longer. I must 
do something, and I must be alone.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

INVISIBLE INK. 

Nance left the room. The moment she closed the door 
behind her the master of the Heights went straight to 
his desk. His brow was like thunder; his face was 
white with an awful grey shadow over it. 

“Long John has gone one step too far,” he muttered. 
“ The robbery was planned and carried out to per- 
fection. It was done as a blind, and as a blind it will 
succeed admirably ; but this — this blow was aimed at 
me. I have threatened to throw up the sponge. If 
I do, it will mean so much that all will be up with the 
Silver School. Now, hear me, Heaven,” continued the 
man, clenching his hand and looking up as he spoke, 
“ I swear, I swear that, as I live, if that boy is not back 
at the Heights within twenty-four hours, I carry out my 
threat.” 

Trembling violently, Rowton sat down before his desk 
and opened it. He took out some paper of a peculiar 
make and quality, dipped his pen into a small bottle 

15 


£26 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


which contained a preparation not in the least like 
ordinary ink, and wrote a short sentence. At the end 
of this sentence he appended a hieroglyphic. The 
paper was then folded up, put into an envelope and 
directed. Having done so. Row ton put on his hat and 
went out. 

As he was walking up the avenue, Jacob, the footman, 
who had been unremitting in his active services and 
presence of mind during the terrible scare of the 
morning, also put on his hat, and followed his master 
at a respectful distance. 

With quick strides, Rowton approached the little 
post office of the small adjacent village. The post- 
mistress, who had evidently not yet heard anything of 
the burglary, looked at him with sOme slight surprise 
when he entered her shop. 

‘‘ Am I in time to catch the post, Mrs. Higgins ? ” he 
asked. 

“Yes, sir, just; Polly and me, we are packing the 
bags now.” 

“Then here is a letter; hold out the bag and I’ll 
drop it in.” 

The woman did so. 

“Thank you, sir,” she said. 

“Now I want to send off a telegram.” 

“ Here are the forms, sir, and a new pen.” 

Rowton scribbled two words on a telegraph form, 
added a brief address, and handed it in. 

“ I want this to go at once,” he said. 

“ I’ll send it off this moment, sir ; it is early, and the 
wires are sure to be clear.” 


INVISIBLE INK. 


227 


“Very well, I’ll wait and see it off ; it is of the utmost 
importance.” 

The woman turned to where the little telegraphic 
apparatus stood, and immediately worked off the message 
while Rowton stood silently by. 

“ Thank you,” he answered. He left the post-office 
as lie spoke. 

Just outside he ran almost into Jacob’s arms. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” cried his master with a 
scowl. 

“ I beg your pardon, sir ; I saw you go out, and I 
thought I’d run after you, sir, to suggest that the police 
should be telegraphed for from Pitstow.” 

“Aye, a good thought,” answered Rowton; “go into 
the office and send a wire off immediately.” 

Jacob lingered outside the post-office until his master’s 
figure had vanished from view. Rowton did not once 
look round. When Jacob could see him no longer, he 
too, went into the post-office. 

“ I want to send a telegram,” he said to the post- 
mistress; “please give me a form.” 

“Dear, dear, you must be all gone mad on the 
subject of telegrams,” she answered; “there’s Mr. 
Rowton sending off the queerest words, enough to 
frighten a body. Oh, I am not going to tell, so don’t 
you think it, Jacob Short.” 

She showed him with a motion of her hand where the 
telegraph forms were lying. As she did so, his eyes met 
hers with a fixed and peculiar glance. She faintly nodded 
to him, and then her face turned pale. 

“Run, Polly,” she said to a rosy-cheeked girl who 

15* 


‘228 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


was helping her, “ and tell Hudson to be quick ; tell 
him it’s time the post was off, or he will miss the train 
at Pitstow.” 

The girl immediately left the room. 

“That was well done,” said Jacob; “now we have 
not a minute to lose. He brought a letter here, did he 
not ? ” 

“ He did that, Mr. Short ; he brought it and dropped 
it into the mail-bag himself. I can’t find it, so there’s no 
use in your trying to meddle. It is as much as my place 
is worth, even talking to you on the subject, and if I 
was to do more, it’s penal servitude might hang over 
my head.” 

“It might, or it might not, said Jacob ; “ we 
have talked over these matters a few times, haven’t 
we, Mrs. Higgins ? It is rather late in the day 
for you to take up this tone. I thought the matter 
was all arranged. You want thirty pounds, don’t 
you now? You shall have it if you give me one look 
at the letter which Mr. Rowton has just dropped 
into the bag.” 

The woman hesitated again; she had a weak and 
somewhat cowardly type of face — her mouth expressed 
greed. When Jacob spoke of the thirty pounds which 
might so easily become hers, her eyes glittered with an 
ugly light. 

“ Heaven knows I do want that money,” she said, “ and 
I don’t suppose any harm will come of it ; be quick, 
then, or Polly will be back.” 

The woman shivered as she spoke. She lifted the flap 
of the counter. 



“He lifted the dispatch out of the bag and coolly deposited it in his pocket. ” 

— Page 22g. 



INVISIBLE INK. 


229 


“ I was just about to seal the bag/' she said ; “ I won't 
look — you do." 

Jacob slipped inside the counter. The post-mistress 
held the bag, half-full of letters, for him to peep in. His 
eyes which were keen as an eagle’s, quickly discovered 
the despatch he wanted. 

He lifted it out of the bag and coolly deposited it in 
his pocket. 

“No, no; that's not fair," she cried in terror. 

“ Perfectly fair," he replied ; “ I’ll post it myself at 
Pitstow in time to catch the same mail" 

“You cannot; it is impossible." 

“ It is quite possible. Don't keep me now, woman ; 
here's your thirty pounds." He laid an envelope on 
the counter, and vanished before she could utter a word. 

Going as quickly as ever his feet could carry him, 
Jacob approached the nearest inn, ordered a trap and 
the fleetest horse in the livery stables. He made a very 
plausible explanation for his hurry. 

“ You know all about the burglary up at the Heights,” 
he said — “ well, I'm off to see the police at Pitstow ; my 
master told me to telegraph, but it occurred to me it 
would be best to drive over and bring one or two of them 
back with me. Now, do be quick. Half-a crown to the 
man who brings round the trap first." 

“ It shall be at your service in three minutes at the 
farthest,” said the burly host of the little village inn. He 
ran off to the stables, and several men began to loaf 
round and eagerly question Jacob Short. 

“ I think I’ll go and lend a hand in putting the harness 
on the horse," said Jacob, who did not want to com- 


230 


A SON OF ISHMAEL, 


municate any of his tidings to the excited bystanders. 
He had reason for his hurry, for at that moment the cart 
containing Her Majesty’s mail rattled up the street. 
Two minutes afterwards Jacob himself was driving as 
fast as he could in the same direction. He soon over- 
took the mail cart, nodded to the driver, whom he 
happened to know slightly, and promising his own driver 
five shillings if he got to Pitstow ten minutes before the 
mail, settled down comfortably to consider the present 
position of affairs. 

Pitstow was quite five miles away, and part of the road 
was very lonely. When Jacob got to the lonely part, the 
mail-cart was so far behind that it was not even visible. 
Short’s driver was smoking a cigar supplied to him by 
that worthy, and happy in his own reflections, was look- 
ing the other way. With a hasty movement. Short now 
took the letter which he had abstracted from the mail-bag 
out of his pocket. It was addressed in an upright and 
somewhat cramped hand. 

“ The sort of hand that ain’t natural to the writer,” 
muttered Short, a gratified smile spreading over his 
countenance. ** I’ve seen Mr. Rowton’s own hand 
scores of times — big and flowing and easy, with a sort of 
dash about it ; now, this i§ as stiff and crabbed as if the 
writer had got the rheumatics very bad. Let me see, to 
whom is it addressed ? 

“ ‘ George Morton, Esq., — Redcliffe Square, London 
S.W.’ Well, there’s certainly nothing remarkable in the 
address. George Morton — the name is respectable, the 
locality good.” 

Jacob held the letter close to his eyes; once again he 


INVISIBLE INK. 


231 


perused the upright, stiff hand with minute and careful 
attention. He presently took a pocket-book out of his 
breast pocket and carefully compared the handwriting on 
the envelope of the purloined letter with some handwrit- 
ing which he had in his pocket-book. 

“ Done, by Jove ! Caught at last ! ” he muttered. 

He slipped the pocket-book into its place, put the 
letter once again into his breast pocket, and began to 
talk in a cheerful and lively manner to the man who was 
driving him. 

The subject ^of the burglary was, of course, the only 
one of the least interest at the present moment. 

“It’s the queerest thing going,” said Jacob Short’s 
driver ; “ why, that’s the third big robbery that’s taken 
place in the last month or six weeks — and the police 
ain’t nabbed one of the fellows yet. I can’t understand 
it, can you, guv’nor ? ” 

“ Oh, the burglars will be nabbed all in good time,” 
said Jacob; “I should not be a bit surprised if this 
robbery at the Heights last night did not do for them. 
Then there’s the child, you know.” 

“ What child ? ” asked the man. 

“ Why, that game little chap, Master Murray Cameron, 
he was kidnapped, too, last night, as well as the plate and 
jewels.” 

The driver, a stolid-looking fellow, dropped his mouth 
wide open on hearing this startling intelligence. 

“ Heaven preserve us ! ” he cried ; “ It is enough to 
terrify a body. There seems a sort of judgment on the 
place. Don’t it strike you so, guv’nor ? ” 

“It does and it doesn’t,” said Jacob; “you whip up 


232 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


your horse, my man. Ah, here we are, at Pitstow, at 
last.” 

“Shall I drive you straight to the police station?” 
asked the man. 

“No ; you put up here at the sign of the Boar; I shall 
want you to drive me back before long.” 

Jacob jumped off the cart and entered the inn. 

“ A private room, quick,” he said ; “ a room with a fire 
in it.” 

Jacob was conducted into a small parlour at the back 
of the inn. 

“You can have this room to yourself, sir,” said the 
landlady. “ It so happens that there’s no one using it 
just now, and the fire is lit all handy.” 

“That’s right,” answered Jacob ; “ now bring me pen, 
ink, and paper. I am in a desperate hurry — I want to 
write an important letter to catch the next post to 
London.” 

“You’ll have to be quick, then,” said the landlady, 
glancing at the clock over the mantelpiece as she spoke, 
“for the post will be cleared in ten minutes.” She 
hurried out of the room to procure writing materials, 
returning with them almost immediately. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” answered Jacob; “and now I’ll 
be all the quicker if I am left alone. 

The landlady took the hint and closed the parlour 
door behind her. 

The moment she did so, Jacob took Rowton’s letter 
again out of his pocket. He breathed on the flap, which 
was securely fastened down, holding it to his mouth with 
one hand, while he wrote a communication of his own. 


INVISIBLE INK. 


233 


as if for life or death, with the other. At last he took 
the moist letter from his mouth. With very little diffi- 
culty and with consummate skill he unfastened the flap 
of the envelope and took the letter from beneath. He 
opened it, to survey nothing whatever except a perfectly 
blank sheet of paper. 

“Ha! invisible ink,” he muttered. “Now, will it 
make its appearance under the influence of fire or of 
water ? I hope to goodness heat will do it, for I never 
thought of ordering water, and the mail will be off in a 
few minutes.” 

He rushed to the fire as he spoke, and held the blank 
sheet of paper at a little distance from the bars. After 
doing so for a few seconds, a satisfied exclamation fell 
from his lips. Some writing of a bright blue colour was 
now perfectly visible on the hitherto blank sheet of paper. 
Jacob read the words, which, to an unobservant eye, 
meant very little : 

“ Illness has increased ; will call to-morrow for ultimatum.” 

At the foot of this apparently unintelligible sentence 
was a certain hieroglyphic of a peculiar shape and size. 

After once again consulting some memoranda in his 
pocket-book, Jacob re-enclosed the letter in its envelope. 
As he did so he observed with satisfaction that the 
writing had completely disappeared. Slipping this letter 
with another of his own into his pocket, he now rushed 
almost on the wings of the wind to the nearest post-office. 
He opened the door and went in — the mail was just 
being packed. 

“ Am I in time to post two letters ? ” 


234 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“Just in time, master, if you look sharp," said the 
postmaster. “ Here, give ’em to me and I’ll drop ’em 
into the bag myself.’' 

Jacob did so ; the letters were thrown on the top of a 
heap of others, and the postmaster began to tie up the 
bag. Jacob went out of the post-office with a perfectly 
radiant face. 

“Well, Jacob Short, you’ve done a nice stroke of 
business to-day,” he muttered to himself ; “ and now I 
fancy your residence at Rowton Heights has very nearly 
come to an end.” 

His mind was completely relieved with regard to the 
letter which he had abstracted from Her Majesty’s mail 
in the little village near Rowton Heights. After all, 
it would go by exactly the same post to town. 

He now went to the police station, gave a circum- 
stantial account of the events of the last night, and, as 
he expected, was soon accompanied by two or three of 
her Majesty’s constabulary back to Rowton Heights. 

The rest of the day was passed, as might be imagined, 
in hopeless confusion and excitement. Jacob saw very 
little of his master and mistress. He was not required 
to wait at lunch, but was busily occupied taking notes 
with the police, who required someone to help them. 

Most of the guests had left or were leaving the 
Heights, the ladies being, many of them, in a state of 
panic, and everyone earnestly wishing to get away from a 
place over which a tragedy seemed now to hang. The 
news of the mad lady being confined in the Queen Anne 
wing had got abroad; that fact, the abstraction of 
the jewels, and the loss of the child, seemed quite to 


INVISIBLE INK. 


235 


change the aspect of the place. Rowton Heights was 
no longer gay, cheerful, the home of brightness and 
frivolity. Detectives and superintendents of police kept 
coming and going ; the entire house was searched from 
cellar to attic, the Queen Anne wing not being excepted. 
Nothing of the least importance was, however discovered, 
and not the faintest clue to the lost child was obtained. 

Rowton, who had busied himself all day seeing to his 
guests and hastening their departure, came into the room 
where his wife and Lady Georgina were seated, about 
six o’clock in the evening. 

“ I cannot stand this inaction any longer,” he said. 
“ I mean to go up to town to-night myself.” 

“ Oh, take me with you,” said Nance, springing to 
her feet j “ the fact is, I am quite afraid to stay here 
alone.” 

He fixed his eyes gloomily upon her — they were 
slightly bloodshot ; his face was more or less flushed. 
He looked so agitated and upset that Lady Georgina 
seemed scarcely to know him. 

“ Will you have the goodness to stay with my wife ? ” 
he asked suddenly, giving her a keen intelligent glance, 
which also seemed to her to convey to her a certain 
warning. 

“ With pleasure,” she replied. 

“ But don’t leave me behind, Adrian,” cried Nance. 
“ I know Lady Georgina is kind, but I am terrified' to 
be left without you. Please take me with you to 
town.” 

“I’ll send for you if necessary, Nancy,” he replied 
after a brief pause. 


A SON OF^ISHMAEL. 


You are surely not going to stay away long?” she 
asked with a gasp of terror. 

He did not answer her, neither did he kiss her ; there 
was an expression about his face which she could not 
fathom. Half an hour later he went away. 


CHAPTER XXVHI. 

HESTER. 

Jacob witnessed the parting between his master and 
mistress in the great hall of the old house. Without 
apparently noticing anything, he yet saw with vivid dis- 
tinctness the queer grey pallor on Adrian Rowton’s face ; 
he noticed how Nance bit her lips, how tightly her 
hands were locked together ; he saw a look in her eyes 
which touched him in spite of himself. The look was 
one of agony. As Nance bade a voiceless good-bye to 
her husband, her soul seemed to look straight into his. 
Jacob saw it all without appearing to see. 

“Poor young lady,” he muttered under his breath; 
“it ain’t in me to be very sorry for anyone, but if I 
could have a spice of feeling it would be for Mrs. Adrian 
Rowton. She is so pretty and so kind. Whatever 
possessed her to give herself up, heart and soul, to that 
devil-may-care chap ? — and yet, and yet, if he were not 
what he is, I could find it in my heart not to be greatly 
surprised. Ah, my fine fellow, you’ll know what Jacob 
Short has found out about you. You’ll lay low enough 
before long.” 

As these thoughts flitted through his mind, the foot- 


HESTER. 


237 


man turned slowly in the direction of the servants' 
premises. He was met just outside the servants' hall by 
the housekeeper. 

“ Well, now,” she said, “ here’s a new trouble.” 

“ And what is that, ma’am ? ” asked Jacob. 

Why, as if we had not worries enough, there’s that 
tiresome girl, Hester Winsome, has gone and been taken 
real bad.” 

“ Bad ? ” echoed Jacob ; “ how so ? ’* 

“ You may well ask how so.” 

“Now I come to think of it,” answered Jacob, “she 
did look a bit queer at dinner-time.” 

“Well, she is queerer now; she is up in her room 
sobbing and moaning and clasping her hands, and cry- 
ing that she wishes to heaven she had nev^r set foot 
in this place, and that her pain is more than she can 
bear. Pain of mind, it seems to me, for I can’t make 
out that there’s anything wrong with her body.” 

“ I wonder, now,” said Jacob, after a somewhat long 
pause, during which he was thinking deeply — “ I 
wonder, now, if she would see me. Perhaps you have 
noticed, ma’am, that I liave a soothing sort of way with 
me.” 

“Of course I’ve noticed it,” said the housekeeper. 
“ I remarked it from the very first. It was only half- 
an-hour ago I was saying to Vickers, * if it was not for 
Jacob Short I really don’t know how we’d have lived 
through the day. He is the only one amongst us who 
has kept a cool head on his shoulders.” 

“Then perhaps I might soothe Hester,” answered 
Jacob, in his soft and melodious voice, his face exhibiting 


238 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


the utmost kindness and sympathy. ** Perhaps you 
would not mind telling her, Mrs. Ferguson, that if she 
would like to come downstairs I should be glad to have 
a chat with her.” 

‘‘I will,” said Mrs. Ferguson; “it is a good thought. 
You may do something to make the girl unburden her- 
self, for mind trouble I am convinced it is.” 

Mrs. Ferguson trotted upstairs, and went straight to 
Hester’s room. 

Hester was laying on the bed, face downwards ; she 
was moaning now and then very heavily, but otherwise 
lay perfectly still. 

“ Now, you silly girl, have you not recovered your 
nerve yet?” said the housekeeper.. 

“ It is the ache in my head, ma’am,” replied the girl ; 
“ there’s a pain running through me at the back of my 
head enough to make me screech out.” 

“I hope, then, you won’t screech out, for there is 
confusion and worry enough without that. For my 
part, I have no patience with people who have not 
got self-control. You get up, Hester, and come down- 
stairs.” 

“ It is easy for you to speak, ma’am,” answered 
Hester; “your conscience lies light enough. It was 
not you who sent Master Murray to the Queen Anne 
wing.” 

“ Well, and if you did it, child,” answered the house- 
keeper, her voice slightly softening, “ you did it, I know, 
with a good motive; you ain’t to blame for that. Now, 
cheer up, and come downstairs ; it will do you good to 
eat a bit of supper with the rest of us.” 


HESTER. 


239 


As Mrs. Ferguson said these last words, she laid her 
hand on Hester’s shoulder. 

“ There’s Jacob, too,” she continued. “ Now, if 
there’s a man I do admire, it’s Jacob. He has self- 
control if you like ; he has a head on his shoulders ; he 
don’t think anything of himself. What has not he done 
this day ? Why, everything for everybody. Helping 
the police to take an inventory of the missing plate, re- 
membering all about it — wonderful, too — better even 
than Vickers, who has been here for years, and going 
off on his own accord for the police, and then seeing my 
master off to town. I never had a better servant in the 
house, and that I will say. When I told him about you, 
no one could speak nicer ; he said to me at once, look- 
ing as concerned as you please : 

“ ‘ Mrs. Ferguson, maybe I could soothe her a bit. I 
have a soothing way, you might remark,’ says he. 

“ ‘ That you have,’ says I. 

“ ‘ Well, then, send her down to me and I’ll have a 
bit of a talk,’ says he. 

“ I answered that I would ; so down you go now, 
Hester, and pour out your mind to him. You tell him 
how you feel about sending the poor little chap off to the 
Queen Anne wing. He’ll bring you to your senses if 
anyone will.” 

“I cannot go,” answered Hester, who had thrown 
herself back again on her bed ; “ it’s useless to expect it 
of me — my head is so giddy that I could not rise to 
save my life ; you can tell Mr. Jacob so with my com- 
pliments, Mrs. Ferguson. Perhaps I’ll be better in the 
morning after I have had a bit of sleep.” 


240 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ Well, if you are as bad as all that,” answered Mrs. 
Ferguson, “ you had best take off your clothes and get 
right into bed. I’ll tell Jacob you ain’t well enough to 
see him, and have gone to bed.” 

“Yes, please do,” answered Hester. 

Mrs. Ferguson left the room. 

As soon as her footsteps died away in the distance, 
Hester raised her head from the pillow and began to 
listen intently. Not hearing a sound, she rose, crossed 
her room, and turned the key in the lock. It turned 
smoothly, as if the lock had been recently oiled. 

Hester then went and stood by the window. Her 
little room was high up in a certain wing of the old 
house ; it looked out across the garden. Night had 
fallen over the place, and the moon, clearer and brighter 
than on the previous night, lit up the landscape with a 
fantastic and weird distinctness. Hester clasped her 
two hands above her head and gazed steadily out. Her 
dark eyes were full of a curious mixture of feeling. 
Emotion, despair, chased away the almost cruel expres- 
sion which, on most occasions, characterised them. 

“ I have gone a step too far,” she muttered. “ I 
thought I was taking in others, and I was took in 
myself. I am fit to kill myself. There, was that nine 
that struck ? ” 

A little clock on the mantelpiece had signalled the 
hour. 

Hester went across the room to a wardrobe, which 
she opened. She took out a cloak and flung it over 
her shoulders, and then with stealthy and swift move- 
ments approached the door. She unlocked it and 


HESTER. 


241 


went into the passage outside. The house was quiet 
as the grave ; the servants were at supper far away ; the 
mad lady was quiet in the Queen Anne wing ; Mrs. 
Rowton and Lady Georgina Strong were at some 
distance in one of the drawing-rooms. Hester’s oppor- 
tunity had come. 

Quick as lightning she flew' down the stairs, and a 
moment later found herself under the shade of a large 
yew tree. The moonlight fell broadly on the grass, but 
under the yew there was a shadow nearly black. As she 
stood there someone touched her on the arm. 

“ So you’ve come,” said a man’s voice in a muffled 
tone. 

Yes, I am here, Jim Scrivener,” panted the girl. 

“ We can’t talk so near the house,” answered Scrivener. 
“ I know a place where we’ll be safe ; follow me and 
keep in the shade.” 

He turned abruptly. Hester, trembling in every limb, 
followed in his wake. 


242 


A SON OF ISHMAEL, 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

“call me DAWSON.*' 

Scrivener walked down a narrow winding path, and 
Hester followed him. They presently found themselves 
under some oak trees in a little dingle, where they were 
completely sheltered from view. Hester stood up to her 
knees in undergrowth, but Scrivener, supporting himself 
against the trunk of one of the trees, twisted his arm 
round a lower branch, and so raised himself out of the 
brushwood. In this position he could look down on 
the pale and trembling girl. Hester*s agitated face 
showed distinctly in the white light of the moon. The 
light came in checkered bars through the bare branches 
of the oak tree. 

“That’s right,” said Scrivener, uttering a little sigh 
as he spoke; “we can talk freely now. No one will 
trace us to this hiding-place. With all their ’cuteness 
the police would not think that we were fools enough 
to stand out in a place of this sort chatting together — 
and if they did ^ee us, why, it would not matter, for we 
are declared lovers, and the fooleries of lovers is past 
belief, as everybody knows.” 

Hester made no reply to this tirade, but her trembling 
lips suddenly shut themselves firmly, and she looked 
boldly up into Scrivener’s face. 

“Well, you are a handsome girl,” said that individual. 


“CALL ME DAWSON.’ 


243 


He jumped down from his vantage ground, and clasped 
her in his arms. 

“ Let go at once,” she cried. She raised her hands 
and tried to push him from her. 

“Hush, hush, old girl, not so loud,” he replied. 
“ Why, what is the matter with you, Hetty ? Ain’t a 
kiss welcome from your own true love ? ” 

“ Not at present,” she answered, “ and if you are my 
true love, I don’t know that I am yours. You have 
played me false, Jim Scrivener, and I am not sure — no, 
I am by no means sure — that I want to have anything to 
do with you.” 

Well, now, you surprise me,” he said in astonishment 
which was by no means feigned. “ I thought our agree- 
ment was fair and above board. I was to make a lady 
of you, Hester Winsome. With your looks, and that 
fine, bold, queenly way of yours, all you want, as I tell 
you over and over, is money and the name of an honest 
man at your bacL” 

“ An honest man ! ” said Hester, her lip curling. 

“ Well, well,” Scrivener laughed as he spoke. “ You 
must forgive a slip now and then,” he continued, 
“ and in the eyes of the world I am a rare honest 
specimen, in a fair way to make a big fortune. When 
it is made, really made, Hester, my girl, we will 
forsake all the ways of evil. There is a new world 
at the other side of this old earth of ours, and we’ll 
settle down there and live as honest as any people in 
the land. Now you know our bargain. I am to make 
you a lady and my wife. We are to be married as 
soon as ever the registrar will do the job. You have 

i6* 


244 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


fulfilled your part to the letter, splendidly, too, and 
now it is my turn.” 

“ All the same, you have deceived me,” said Hester. 
“ We did make a bargain, but you meant more than I 
knew.” 

“ Ha, ha, you cannot blame me for being a little 
cunning,” said Scrivener. I repeat, you did your part 
of the job splendidly. If I had told you all, the fat 
would have been in the fire — you would never have had 
the courage.” 

“ The courage ! The cruelty, you mean,” said Hester, 
clasping her hands so tightly together that the veins 
almost started through the skin. “ You must let me 
speak out, Jim Scrivener. You told me some, but not 
all — you deceived me. Did you think I’d have gone as 
far as I did if I had really known ? ” 

“ No, that you would not, so I kept some to 
myself.” 

“ You said you wanted to have a good look at the 
child — that you were really curious about him. You 
wanted to know if, by-and-by, not at present, but by-and- 
by, he might take to the business, the cursed black 
business which I hate at this moment as much as I hate 
you, Jim Scrivener. You asked me to send him round 
for you to squint at, as you expressed it. How could I 
tell you meant to kidnap him ? When he never came 
back last night I guessed the whole, and I was fit to kill 
myself. I have been fit to kill myself ever since. And 
now, look here, Jim Scrivener, I won’t be your wife, not 
if it makes me the grandest lady in the land. If you 
don’t do something, and pretty quick, too, I’ll tell what 


•‘CALL ME DAWSON.’ 


245 


I know. I don’t care if I do go to prison for it, I’ll tell 
what I know.” 

“ Is that your real mind ? ” said Scrivener, coming up 
close to her and looking intently into her face. 

He wore an ugly look; there was a certain green 
tint about his face which the moonlight intensified. His 
small shifty eyes looked cruel. Hester, who had not 
much real courage, shrank away from him. 

“We’re ugly people, we are,” said Scrivener, “good to 
work with but ugly to meddle with — worse than ugly, 
dangerous, to cross. If you ain’t tired of the life that 
beats in that pretty little body of yours, Hester Winsome, 
you had better not talk in that way, for I may as well 
say out flat, it would not be worth an hour’s purchase if 
some of our folk knew what you just said. Look me 
full in the face, Hester, and repeat those words again if 
you dare.” 

“ You know I do not dare, Jim,” she answered ; “ you 
know that you have a terrible power over me ; you know 
that you have had it for a long time.” 

“ Yes ; you are completely and utterly in my power, 
body and soul,” said the man. As he spoke he slipped 
his arm round her waist and drew her close to 
him. “Body and soul, little girl,” he repeated, “you 
are in the power of Jim Scrivener, of the Silver 
School.” 

“ Oh, don’t say it so loud,” she panted. 

“ I won’t if you don’t drive me to it. There, now 
you look like your old self. Give us a kiss, gentle and 
pretty like. Why, I am so fond of you, Hetty, that 
there’s nothing I would not do for you but put my own 


246 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


neck in jeopardy, and that^s more than any girl can 
expect.” 

“Yes, I know, Jim,” she replied, seeing it was best to 
humour him, “and, of course, I would not tell for all 
the world. But, look here, Jim, couldn't you manage to 
get the little chap back again ? You cannot really want 
a little fellow like that. Why, what can he do for you ? ” 

“We want him as a draw,” said Scrivener. “You 
let him alone ; you won’t see him for the present.” 

“ Oh, Jim, I feel as if I’d go mad when I think of 
him. I don’t mind a bit about the jewels nor the silver, 
nor, for that matter, about Mr. Rowton, but I do care 
for that nice little fellow. Oh, there’s no knowing what 
harm he will come to — and it is my doing. I shall feel 
that it’s my doing to my dying day.” 

“ The kid will come to no harm, silly girl.” 

“But where is he, Jim? You might tell me, seeing 
that you love me so much.” 

Scrivener laughed. 

“ Not I,” he answered. “ I do love you, and you’re 
an uncommon pretty girl, and I’ll make you a real 
affectionate sort of husband. You’ll be loving to me, 
and ril be loving to you, and we’ll be like a pair of 
turtle doves together. There, now you are looking at 
me in your old pretty way. Upon my word, I am all 
impatient for the ceremony to take place. You are not 
to know where the little chap is, Hester, but there. 
I’ll say something to comfort you. He is snug enough 
and will come to no harm. Long John has got him, 
and Long John ain’t to be gainsaid, not by any silly girl 
that ever breathed, so you stop whining in that way. 


“CALL ME DAWSON. 


247 


and let us go to the real business which has brought me 
here.” 

“Yes,” she said, controlling herself with a mighty 
effort 

Suddenly she raised her eyes, which were full of tears. 

“ I see you won’t tell, and I must be content,” she 
said. “ Will you swear faithful, then, Jim, that if I do 
go on bearing this awful weight on my conscience, no 
real harm will happen to the child ? ” 

“Yes, I can swear that right enough. At the very 
worst, the little fighting-cock will /only enter on a short 
and a merry life. “ Why, Hetty,” continued the man, 
“ think of what it all means — lots of money, lots of ex- 
citement, hairbreadth escapes, adventures no end.” 

“Prison afterwards, penal servitude, and worse per- 
haps,” she muttered under her breath, 

“ True enough,” replied the man. “ I ain’t one to 
shut my eyes to the danger ; we most of us go that way 
in the long run ; we make up our minds to that from 
the first. Why, it is part of the excitement. The fear, 
for I suppose it is a sort of fear, makes the pleasure of 
the present all the greater. Oh, girl, it is a mad, merry 
life, and I would not change it for twenty of the hum- 
drum existences of the city clerk and the other poor, 
half-starved beggars I see around me. Now then, my 
pretty one, when shall the marriage bells chime ? ” 

“Not yet,” she answered; “I don’t want to be your 
wife yet awhile.” 

“ Yes, but I want you to. You know too much, Hester 
Winsome ; you must join us out and out now, or take 
the consequences.” 


248 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ What do you mean ? she asked, turning pale. 

For answer, Scrivener once again put his arm round 
her waist, drew her close to him, put his hand under 
her chin, and looked fixedly into her eyes. Then he 
whispered a short sentence into her ear. 

Whatever he told her had a queer effect. She turned 
first a vivid red, and then white to her lips ; her slender 
figure swayed as if she would faint, and were the man 
not supporting her, she must have fallen. 

“There’s a brave lass,” he said ; “you have taken it 
as I knew you would. You must make the best of 
things now, my beauty. I go back to town to-morrow, 
or perhaps to-night, and I’ll see what the registrar 
requires. It is my belief, as I have been so long in the 
place, that we can be married at very short notice. 
Now, you leave your present situation in a week or ten 
days at the farthest. Why, look here, I am no end of a 
swell in town. You’ll be surprised when I take you to 
your home. In my own way I am as good as Silver 
— yes, that I am. I believe his dame was a good bit 
taken aback when she came here ; so you’ll be when I 
take you to my humble dwelling, pretty Hetty. Now 
let me hear from those beautiful rosebud lips that you’ll 
soon be mine.” 

“ I’ll soon be yours, Jim,” answered the girl, “though 
I am in no end of a funk.” 

The man laughed. He pressed Hetty close to him, 
and began to kiss her on her lips and forehead. She 
submitted to his caresses, shutting her eyes and trying 
to keep back the agony which was really filling her 
heart. 


“CALL ME LAWSON; 


249 


“ That’s all right,” said Scrivener. “You give notice 
to quit to-morrow, do you hear ? ” 

“ Yes, Jim.” 

“You had best not give too short notice, or it might 
rouse suspicion. Say you are engaged to be married 
to a respectable man in a way of business. You might 
call me Dawson if you like ; it don’t much matter ; the 
less you bring in names, the better, only if you are 
driven to it, say the man’s name is Sam Dawson. Then 
at the end of the fortnight you go up to town, and I’ll 
meet you at King’s Cross and take you right away to 
my own house. I think that’s all now. You had best 
slip back, or you may be suspected.” 

“Very well, Jim, I’ll do what you say, for I cannot 
help myself. I suppose you are going to town ? ” 

“ You had best not know where I am going. Leave 
me to manage my own affairs. If you don’t know, you 
can’t tell. There, good-bye.” 


5 



250 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

MRS. LARKINS. 

George Morton, of — , Redcliffe Square, was supposed 
by his many friends to be a retired solicitor. He was a 
man who lived in a comfortable and respectable way, 
who gave largely to charities, who was a good Church 
member, an affectionate father, and a kind husband. He 
was much respected and looked up to in the neighbour- 
hood, and no one would suspect him of having anything 
to do with that disgraceful thing, an alias. Nevertheless, 
Long John, of the Silver School, and George Morton, 
of Redcliffe Square, were one and the same individual. 
He received Rowton’s letter in the course of the evening, 
and its contents by no means surprised him. The tele- 
gram, which had come early in the day, had given him 
quite to understand that this troublesome member of 
his mob or school was in a state of insurrection. Mor- 
ton read the letter calmly, slipped it into his pocket, 
and proceeded to discuss the soup in his plate. His 
wife, a pretty little woman, who had not the faintest idea 
that her husband was cither than what he represented 
himself to be, looked at him with the dawn of anxiety on 
her face. 

** Does anything worry you, George ? ” she asked. 

“ No, nothing. Why do you ask ? ” he replied. He 
gave her a glance out of his big and beautiful eyes, and 


MRS. LARKINS. 


251 


she knew at once that he did not wish to be questioned 
further. 

“ Have you to go out to-night, dear ? ” was her next 
query. 

“Yes,” he answered; “I have just received a letter 
which requires immediate attention.” 

“Has it anything to do with the telegram which I 
opened in your absence ? ” she asked — “ the telegram 
with the queer words, * death imminent.* ” 

“ I wish, Alice,*’ he answered, “ that in future you 
would not open my telegrams. No, the letter has 
nothing whatever to do with the telegram. The latter 
referred to an affair on the Stock Exchange, and was 
a cipher.” 

“ Oh ! ** she answered, looking puzzled, as he meant 
her to be. Then you cannot come with me to the 
Norrises* ‘At Home* ? ** she said after a longer pause. 

“ Not to-night ; “ I must go to my club. I cannot say 
when I shall be in, so will take the latchkey. Don’t 
sit up for me.** 

Having finished his dinner, Morton presently went 
out. 

His wife nodded brightly to him when he bade her 
good-bye, and soon afterwards she went upstairs to her 
nursery. She kissed her children and heard them say 
their prayers, and then went to dress for the “ At 
Home,” to which Morton could not accompany her. 

At about the time that Long John, or Morton, re- 
ceived Rowton’s letter, the detective, Crossley, had an 
epistle of extreme interest from Jacob Short, the foot- 


262 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


man at Rowton Heights. He read it over with care 
and conned the last sentence with special interest. 

** There’s no doubt,” wrote Short, “that we have 
found our man. He answers in every respect to the 
description which you have had by you for so many years. 
The only thing now left to discover is the mark on the 
upper lip. The man whom we suspect — for safety I 
name no names here — although clean shaven otherwise, 
wears a long and heavy moustache. I have tried once 
or twice to steal secretly into his room when he was 
sleeping. It even occured to me to drug his wine, in 
order to ensure that he might have such deep repose 
that I could lift his moustache without his noticing it ; 
but that opportunity has never come. I doubt, too, 
whether the man, who is naturally all suspicion, could 
arrive at such a state of slumber that I could effect my 
object It is necessary, of course, to discover this mark, 
and it is my opinion that the wife is the only person 
who will be able to find out whether her husband con- 
ceals under his moustache the death’s head and arrow.” 

“True,” said Crossley to himself, “too true.” 

Having finished his letter he put it into his pocket, 
and soon afterwards went out Hailing a cab, he drove 
to an address in Lambeth. His hansom turned into a 
shabby side street, and drew up before a small and 
aecidedly common order of house. Crossley ran up the 
steps and rang the bell. After a moment’s delay, a 
woman opened the door and stood before him. She 
was a pale, anxious-faced woman, of middle age, untidy 


MRS. LARKINS. 


253 


in appearance, with unkempt, disorderly hair. Her eyes 
were sunken into her head as if she had indulged in 
much and constant weeping. When she saw Crossley, 
the colour rushed into her face, and she gave a violent 
and perceptible start. 

“ How do you do, Mrs. Larkins ? ” said the detective. 

Mrs. Larkins dropped a curtsey. Her words, when 
they did come out, were uttered so quickly that they 
seemed to tumble one on top of the other. 

“ I beg your pardon, sir, I did not know you for the 
instant, standing with your back to the light. Come in, 
sir, if you please.’^ 

Crossley entered the little house without a word. The 
woman took him into her parlour. She was a sempstress ; 
a sewing machine stood on the centre table, and a lot of 
plain linen was scattered about. A couple of children, 
dirty and ill-fed, were quarrelling on the hearth - rug. 
They did not look up or desist from their occupation 
of pulling each other’s hair when Crossley and the 
mother entered. 

“Send them away,” said the detective, pointing to 
them ; “ I want to see you alone, and I am in a great 
hurry.” 

^‘Run upstairs to granny, dears,” said the woman to 
the children. “ Ask granny to give you a bit of supper 
and put you to bed.” 

“Granny says there ain’t nothing for supper except 
dry bread,” piped the elder child, “and I don’t want 
dry bread ; do you, Bobby ? ” 

“No,” said Bobby, beginning to whimper. “I want 
cake.” 


254 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“Here,” said Crossley, putting his hand into his 
pocket and pulling out half-a-crown, “ take this to your 
granny and tell her to buy you some cake.” ' 

The elder child, young as she was, knew the value of 
money. She clutched the coin eagerly, and ran out of 
the room, followed by her small brother. 

“ Them children, and myself, for that matter, are half 
starved,” said Mrs. Larkins. “ I’ve worked ’ard, as you 
can see, sir, but I can’t make the two ends meet, no 
matter how I try. It do seem bitter ’ard, Mr. Crossley, 
that you should not let me have the twenty pounds my 
husband hid away for me. He knew well when he hid 
the money in that mug behind the dresser that an evil 
day would come. He knew I would be safe to find the 
money the first time I turned the room out. I say again, 
sir, it do seem ’ard you should have tak^n it, for it were 
meant for me.” 

“ Shut up, woman,” said Crossley, “ and let me speak. 
I did what I did for a good purpose, and could do no 
otherwise. Your husband’s trial comes on at the 
next assizes ; he is certain to get his five years at the 
least.” 

“ Do you think so, indeed, sir ? Oh, my poor Bill. 
And whatever will become of me ? ” The woman raised 
her apron to her eyes and began to sob. 

“It is impossible for me to say. Now, listen and 
stop crying if you can. The fact is this ; I know your 
case is a hard one. I have thought a good bit about 
you and that twenty pounds which your husband saved 
away for you in case he should be nabbed, as nabbed he 
was certain to be in the end.” 


MRS. LARKINS. 


255 


“ Yes, yes, sir, I am not going to defend him, but that 
money I do believe he come by honest.” 

“ The less we talk on that subject, the better,” said 
Crossley. “ Well, now, look here. I found the money, 
and as, of course, I ought, I took it with me because 
you had no possible right to it ; but it so happens that 
at the present moment I have got twenty pounds in my 
pocket — here, in my waistcoat.” Crossley tapped him- 
self as he spoke. 

“ Oh, sir, that twenty pounds ? ” 

“No matter to you what twenty pounds. I have 
twenty pounds in my pocket, and you shall have it — yes, 
every penny of it, all in gold sovereigns, too, if you’ll do 
what I want.” 

“I’m sure there^s nothing I would not do for the 
money,” began Mrs. Larkins. 

“ Then that is all right ; you are a sensible woman 
when all is said and done. Now, you just give me a 
little bit of information.” 

At these words the poor woman’s face, which had 
gradually begun to assume an expression of hope, turned 
once again to its old death-in-life appearance. She shook 
her head feebly, and taking up a long seam of needle- 
work began to sew at it. “ I cannot tell on poor Bill’s 
pals,” she said ; “ no, I can’t, it’s no use asking me, so 
there. I won’t give evidence agin them.” 

“ Very well,” said Crossley, “ I can only say I am 
sorry for you. It is quite out of my power to give you 
twenty pounds for nothing. If you help me. I’ll help 
you. That is fair and above board, isn’t it? Now, 
will you speak or will you not ? ” 


256 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ I cannot, sir ; I really cannot.” 

“ Well, well, you have something to sell, and I want 
to buy it. I offer a good price, but if you won’t accept, 
there’s an end of the matter. Good evening to you, 
Mrs. Larkins.” Crossley placed his hat on his head as 
he spoke and made for the door. 

“ Oh, sir ! ” said the poor woman, *‘if only you would 
see your way to give me five pounds out of the twenty. 
Even five would save me, sir. I can’t pay the rent, and 
we’ll be turned out next week, and everybody knows I 
am the wife of a thief, and I can’t get employ- 
ment, except this sort, and this sort is starvation, it 
really is.” 

“Now look here, my good woman,” said Crossley, 
returning once more and taking up his stand on the 
hearth rug, “ don’t you think you are a bit of a fool ? 
What are you making all these bones about? You 
want the money, and I am willing to give it to you. I 
want to buy something which you can sell. Now, if I 
promise absolute secrecy, will you tell me what you know 
on a certain point ? ” 

“Oh, if I thought it would never get abroad, of 
course I would,” said the woman. 

“Your name will never be breathed in the business — 
that I swear to you. I want this information for my 
own private reasons.” 

“And you’ll give me Bill’s twenty pounds, sir ? ” 

“ I’ll give you twenty pounds before I leave this house, 
but you need not call it Bill’s unless you like. I advise 
you not to for your own sake.” 

The woman was silent for a moment. Taking out a 


MBS. LARKINS. 


257 


handkerchief, she wiped some moisture from her fore- 
head. After a pause, she said abruptly : 

“ Very well, I’ll tell. I hope to heaven I ain’t doing 
nothing wrong.” 

“Of course you’re not; you are a wise woman who 
simply knows when her bread is buttered . Come here 
to the light. Do you know this ? Have you ever seen 
anything like it before ? ” 

As he spoke, Crossley held a fragment of the letter, 
which for so many years he had kept in his possession, 
before Mrs. Larkins’ eyes. 

“ Yes, sir, I seem to know it,” she replied, turning 
white. 

“ It is queer writing, is it not ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir, very queer.” 

“And you are sure you have seen it before?” 

“Well, yes, sir, I am positive.” 

“ Tell me when and how.” 

“Well, my husband got letters writ like that more 
than once — several times. Once he left a letter about 
and I puzzled to read it. Of course, I could not make 
out a single word, and he laughed at me trying to get 
at the back of the cipher as he called it.” 

“ You are quite right ; this letter is written in cipher. 
Now, can you tell me the name of the writer?” 

“No, sir.” 

“ No, Mrs. Larkins ! Remember your twenty 
pounds.’^ 

“ Even for that I cannot tell what I do not know, 
sir. I do not know the name of the writer of that 


letter.” 


17 


258 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ Have you ever seen him ? ” 

“Oh, that’s another matter,” said Mrs. Larkins. 
“ Yes, I’ve seen him ; he come here once or twice — 
once he came and stayed over an hour ; he and my 
husband talked in this ’ere room.” 

“ And you saw him ? ” 

“ I see him come and go. The light fell on his face.” 

“You would know him again, would you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, well.” 

“Well enough to swear to him ? ” 

“ I think so, sir.” 

“ What sort of a man was he ? Describe him as well 
as you can.” 

“ So dark that he looked almost like a foreign chap,” 
said Larkins’ wife ; “ taller than most men, and broader. 
He wore a hat slouched down over his eyes, so I could 
not see his face, but his voice was deep and full, and 
had a fierce sort of note in it.” 

“ Would you say, now, that he was a gentleman ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, he had the way of one — ’aughty he were, 
and proud as a lord.” 

“ Well, now, think a minute : you are quite sure you 
never heard his name ? ” 

“No, that I didn’t; but Bill was mighty flustered the 
last time he came here. I were in the next room for a 
bit, and I ’eard my husband and this gentleman talk 
about a robbery which they meant to commit in the 
north of England. I believe it were a bank they wanted 
to rob. Someone, whose name I could not catch, had 
said they were to do the job between them — that is, my 
man was to do the real business, and the other man was 



“Here,” said Crossley, taking a photograph out of his pocket ; “was 
he anything like this ? ” 


—Page 239 



MRS. LARKINS. 


259 


to watch and to look on. That’s all I ever heard, and 
it’s my belief the robbery never came off — but I remem- 
ber they planned it.” 

“ Here,” said Crossley suddenly, taking a photograph 
out of his pocket ; ** you say you would know your man 
if you saw him again ? ” 

“ I would, sir.” 

“ Was he anything like this ? ” 

** Why, yes, sir,” said Mrs. Larkins, turning pale, 
“ that were ’im. I could not mistake him. Oh, sir, you 
swear you won’t get me into trouble for this. It seems 
as if I were telling you too much.” 

“Not a bit of it. I swear that your name shall never 
come out in this matter. Now, here’s your twenty 
pounds. I believe you have told me all you know truth- 
fully, and you can do no more.” 

“ Heaven bless you, sir,” called Mrs. Larkins after 
him when Crossley went away. 

Before the indefatigable detective went to bed that 
night he wrote the following letter, which was addressed 
to Mrs. Adrian Rowton, Rowton Heights, near Pitstow, 
Yorkshire, and ran as follows : 

“ Madam, 

“ I have some painful news to impart to you 
in connection with the business which has occupied my 
attention for so many years. I wish to heaven your 
father were still alive so that I might break it to him 
instead of to you, but it being your express wish that 
the thing should go on to the bitter end, I have no help 
for it, but to summon you to town as quickly as possible. 

17* 


280 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


On receipt of this letter, which I calculate will reach 
you about noon to-morrow, will you take the next 
train from Pitstow to King’s Cross ? I will meet you at 
King’s Cross and bring you straight here to my own 
house. I shall have something to communicate to you 
then which will fall as a blow on you, madam. I trust 
to your good sense, however, to keep up under these 
afflicting circumstances, and to remember the solemn 
promise you are under to your late father. 

“ I am. Madam, 

“ Your respectful servant, 

Robert Crossley.’’ 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

A SUMMONS. 

Nance received Crossley’s letter about noon on the 
following day. Lady Georgina was, of course, still with 
her, Nance and this lady were standing by the drawing- 
room window when Jacob brought in the letter. Before 
he left the room, he perceived the death like hue which 
spread over his young mistress’s face. 

“When all is said and done, mine is an odious 
calling,” he muttered to himself. He went straight to 
the housekeeper’s room. 

“Mrs. Ferguson,” he said, “even at the risk of 
incurring your displeasure, I must ask you to give me 
another holiday.” 

“What, Jacob, another 1 Really, what servants are 
coming to in this day passes belief. The old business, 
is it ? ” 


A SUMMONS. 


261 


** Yes, ma’am, the old trouble,” answered Jacob. 

“Well, well, I am sorry for you. You’ll be back 
to-morrow ? ” 

“ Certain, sure, ma’am, and I am much obliged.” 

Jacob left the room. 

He had scarcely done so when the drawing-room bell 
summoned him to appear there. 

Mrs. Rowton was standing by a table — she was taking 
up and putting down some new magazines — there was 
an abstracted and somewhat alarmed look on her face. 
When Jacob appeared she started. 

“ Did you ring, madam ? ” he asked. 

“Yes,” she replied. “Will you, please, go to the 
stables at once, and desire the coachman to bring the 
carriage round to meet the next train to town ? ” 

“ The covered carriage, madam ? ” 

“Yes, the brougham with the basket on top for 
luggage.” 

“ Very well, madam ; the next train leaves for town 
at 3.30,” answered Jacob. 

“ Desire the carriage to be round in good time.” 

“ Now it is my turn,” said Lady Georgina, who had 
sat quite silent during all this time by the window. She 
approached the table where Nance was standing “ May 
I ask, Nancy Rowton,” she said, “if that mysterious 
letter was from your husband ? ” 

“ It was not,” answered Nance. 

“ Ah I that is strange ; and yet the letter was a 
summons for you to go to town ? ” 

“ Yes, it was,” replied Nance. 

“ And not from your husband ? ” 


262 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


« No/' 

“You are going to obey the summons, child?" 

“ I am, Lady Georgina.” 

“ You won't tell me what it is all about ? ” 

“ I cannot ; you must not question me.” 

“Then, at least understand one thing,” said Lady 
Georgina in a determined voice — “where you go, I 

go-” 

“ You 1” answered Nance, looking up with a queer 
expression in her eyes. Her mouth suddenly twitched 
with emotion which she could scarcely control. 

“No,” she said, “you are kind — you are very kind, 
you are my best friend after my husband, but I must do 
this thing alone. It is part of the agony that it must be 
done alone and without help ; I must consult no one. I 
must.go to town by myself.” 

“My dear little girl, you must do nothing of the 
kind. I have no wish to spy into your secret. You 
can see whoever you wish to see by yourself, but your 
husband put you into my care, and where you go, Nancy, 
I go.” 

“ As you please ; I have no strength to argue about 
the matter,” said Nancy in a faint voice. 

She went up to her room to put on her travelling cloak 
and bonnet, and found Hester waiting for her. Hester 
was neatly dressed in her travelling things. 

“ Of course you want me to go with you, madam ? ” 
she said. 

“ I think not, Hester,” replied Nance, “ If I stay in 
town for any length of time I will telegraph to you to join 
me, but you are not .to accompany me to-day.” 


A SUMMONS, 


263 


“ As you please, of course, madam. I have packed 
everything you will require, and, of course, shall be in 
readiness to go to town the moment I receive your tele- 
gram.” Hester took off her hat as she spoke. Her face 
was very pale. 

“You don’t look well,” said Nancy, whose heart was 
never too much troubled to forget to notice the pains 
and sorrows of others. 

“ I have been having bad head-aches lately,” replied 
the girl, turning crimson ; then she added after a pause, 
as she held out her mistress’s cloak for her to put 
on, “I don’t know if Mrs. Ferguson acquainted you 
with the fact, madam, that I must leave your service.” 

“ Indeed,” replied Nance. She would have liked to 
have added that she was sorry, but the words were 
arrested on her lips. She knew in her heart of hearts 
that Hester’s absence would be a relief. 

“ Yes, madam,” continued the girl, “ I am leaving in 
about a fortnight. Mrs. Ferguson says she can easily 
supply my place, and as I am to be married ” 

“ Married 1 ” cried Nancy ; “ you are leaving because 
of that ? ” 

“ Yes, madam, I expect to be married in a fortnight 
from now.” 

The sound of wheels was heard crunching the gravel 
outside. 

“ I must go,” said Nance, catching up her gloves and 
muflf. “Good-bye, Hester; you can tell me all about 
your future prospects when next we meet — who your 
husband is to be, and all about it. Good-bye.” 

Nance nodded kindly and left the room. A moment 


264 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


or two later, she and Lady Georgina were driving to 
Pitstow station. They reached it in good time, took 
their train, and presently found themselves steaming 
quickly in the direction of London. They had a first- 
class compartment to themselves. 

“ I have a fear,” said Nance suddenly, “which I can- 
not account for, nor explain away.” 

“You mean that you dread our dear little Murray may 
not be quickly found?” said Lady Georgina. 

“ No,” answered Nance after a pause ; “ it would be 
wrong to deceive you or to make you think me better 
than I am. I love Murray, but my fear is not about 
him.” 

“ Then what is it about, child ? Ah, you need not tell 
me — you are troubled about your husband ? ” 

“ He is unhappy, and he is away. I am much, much 
troubled.” 

“You are naturally nervous,” replied Lady Georgina. 
“ Now, if you had known that good Adrian Rowton 
as long as I have, nothing that he did or said would 
surprise you — in short, you would cease to be nervous 
about one who is unaccountable. His ways are un- 
accountable, so is his mind, so also doubtless is his 
heart.” 

“ No, no, there never was a heart like his,” inter- 
lupted Nance. 

“ It shows its sunny side to you,” replied Lady 

Georgina; “to others ” she paused, her bright 

dancing eyes became grave. “Adrian comes of an 
eccentric family,” she continued, “eccentric to the verge 
— yes, I may as well say it, of insanity. His sister, 


A SUMMONS. 


265 


poor thing ! has been insane for years. Report whispers 
that Adrian gave her a dreadful shock, soon after 
Murray’s birth. Anyhow she went completely off her 
head, and has been insane ever since. As to Adrian 
himself, he has his own mad points. Oh, my dear child, 
there have been occasions when I have thought him as 
mad as a hatter, but all the same, I repeat once again, 
I have never met a more fascinating, a braver or more 
attractive man.” 

“ Thank you for those good words,” Nance said im- 
pulsively. 

She left her seat, crossed the carriage, put her arms 
round Lady Georgina’s neck, and kissed her. 

“Thank you,” she repeated; “when even for a 
moment you see my husband as he really is, you give me 
inexpressible comfort.” 

“ It is my honest opinion,” continued Lady Georgina, 
“that the only very great trouble you have to bear at 
present is the mysterious absence of dear little Murray. 
Your husband is doubtless taking steps to discover his 
whereabouts in town. As to his conduct in other 
respects, remember that I think nothing at all about it. 
He is queer, but not mad ; he will never kick over the 
traces, or go too far in any one direction. You will 
most likely meet him to-morrow or the next day in 
London. By the way, do you know his address ? ” 

“No.” 

I thought as much. Does he never give you his 
address when he leaves you ? ” 

“ He has not done so hitherto. 

“ Again I may say, that I thought as much,” replied 


266 


A SON OP ISHMAEI* 


Lady Georgina, tapping her foot impatiently. “ Did 
you really have no directions where letters are to be 
forwarded to ? ” 

“ No." 

“ Where do you propose to spend the night your- 
self?” 

I cannot tell, Lady Georgina. I only know that I 
am going to town ; after that all is blank.” 

“Then, my dear, it is a blessing I am with you. We 
will put up at the Universal Hotel It is large and 
central, and the very moment we take rooms there we 
will wire to Rowton Heights to tell the servants our 
whereabouts.” 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

A RED TRACK. 

When the train arrived at King’s Cross, Crossley was 
waiting on the platform. A quick glance showed him 
Nancy’s pale face in the window of a first-class compart- 
ment. He went forward to meet her. 

“Thank you for answering my letter so promptly, 
Mrs. Rowton,” he said. “ I have a carriage outside ; 
may I take you at once to my house ? ” 

At this moment Lady Georgina touched Nancy on the 
arm. 

“ Introduce me to the gentleman,” she said. 

“ Mr. Crossley, Lady Georgina Strong,” said Nance. 

Crossley bowed. Lady Georgina favoured him with 
an intensely earnest glance. She saw a man of middle 
height, dressed in the correct garb of an ordinary 


A RED TRACK. 


267 


gentleman. He had a pleasant face, and looked emi- 
nently respectable. 

** Lady Georgina has been kind enough to accompany 
me to town, Mr, Crossley,” said Mrs. Rowton. 

“ Yes,” said Lady Georgina, “ I have come with this 
lady because she is too young and inexperienced to take 
care of herself — also because her husband left her in 
my charge. She says that she has cqme up to London 
on receipt of a letter. May I ask, sir, if you are the 
writer ? ” 

“ I am, madam. I am anxious to see Mrs. Rowton 
on a private matter of much importance.” 

“Yes, Lady Georgina, it is quite a secret,” said 
Nance. 

“I am aware of that fact,” said Lady Georgina. 
“Well, sir,” she continued, “here is Mrs. Rowton. You 
are at liberty to tell her what you please. Where do 
you propose to take her to communicate your tidings ? ” 

“To my own house, madam.” 

“ And where is your house ? ” 

“It is a good way from here — near Clapham Common 
— but, expecting the lady, I ordered a private carriage, 
which is waiting for us at the present moment, and we 
can reach the house in about an hour from now.” 

“Very well,” answered Lady Georgina, “only please 
understand that where Mrs. Rowton goes I go.” 

The luggage was secured and put upon the top of the 
private carriage, which Crossley had hired from a livery 
stable not far from his own house. Lady Georgina and 
Nance entered, but the detective preferred sitting with 
the driver on the box, he said. 


268 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


*‘The mystery thickens, but excitement suits me,'* 
said Lady Georgina with a sigh, which she quickly sup- 
pressed as the horses started forward at a good pace, and 
they soon left King's Cross behind them. 

In the course of an hour they reached Crossle/s 
house. The moment they got within, Nance, who 
had been absolutely silent during the long drive, 
spoke. 

“ I am anxious to see you alone at once, Mr. Crossley," 
she said. 

She raised her eyes to the detective’s face as she 
spoke. He was placing his hat on the stand in the little 
narrow hall. 

“ Very well, madam, I wish to tell you my tidings 
without delay,” he replied. 

“ Then will you kindly show Lady Georgina to one 
room and take me to another ? ” 

“ May I take you to my drawing-room, madam ? ” said 
Crossley, bowing to Lady Georgina. 

He opened a door on one side of the hall as he spoke, 
and ushered Lady Georgina into a small room, furnished 
in the ordinary style of a drawing-room of that class of 
house. There was a centre table on which some news- 
papers and one or two gaudily-bound books were placed. 
A paraffin lamp stood in the centre of the table, a bright 
fire burned in the grate ; an easy-chair of old-fashioned 
make stood beside the fire. 

“I shall do well here,” said Lady Georgina. “Do 
not pray give me another thought, only let me know 
when you have quite done with Mrs. Rowton.” 

“One word, madam,” said Crossley, dropping his 


A BED TBACK. 


269 


voice to a whisper. ** I count it a providential arrange- 
ment that you are with the young lady. I have 
sore tidings for her. Heaven knows she will need 
help.” 

There was a note in the detective’s voice which 
startled Lady Georgina, who was not a woman affected 
by nerves. She made no reply, however, beyond an 
emphatic nod of her head. The detective left the room, 
closing the door behind him. He took Nance at once 
into his private study, and motioned her to a chair. She 
loosened her cloak, but did not sit. 

I prefer to stand,” she said. “ I want, Mr. Crossley, 
to learn your tidings at once and without preface.” 
She fixed her eyes on him as she spoke. 

** How will she bear it?” thought the detective to 
himself. “ I wish I had never gone into this business. 
Who would have thought that it would have come out 
as it has ? Poor young lady, I cannot bear to meet 
her eyes.” 

“You have prepared me for something very dreadful,” 
said Nance ; “ but please understand it is not the news 
itself, but the suspense which is really killing me. 
Speak ! tell me what you have discovered.” 

“ I have very grave tidings, Mrs. Rowton,” said the 
man. “ It is impossible for me to tell them you in half 
a dozen words. You have got to listen to a certain story. 
Believe me, I will not keep you in suspense a minute 
longer than I can help.” 

“ Begin, then,” said Nance. ^ 

A chair was standing near. She caught the back of it 
with one trembling hand, and stood very upright, facing 


270 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


the detective, who placed himself on the hearth-rug with 
his back to the fire. 

“ I believe,” said Crossley, in a low but very firm 
voice, “ that I have at last found the man who murdered 
your brother.” 

“ I thought as much,” said Nance. She spoke 
faintly. 

“ His name ? ” she said then after a pause. 

“ I will come to the name in a few minutes, madam. 

I have, I believe, found the man. You remember when 
I visited you at the Heights about two months ago that 
T 'then spoke of certain suspicions ? ” 

“You did. Pardon me, why must we go into that? 
Can you not put me out of suspense at once ? ” 

“ I must tell my story in my own way, Mrs. Rowton. 
Believe me, my task is no easy one.” 

“I will have patience,” said Nance. “I beg you to 
forgive me for showing want of self-control.” 

“ I more than forgive you, my young lady. I will say 
something more ; I wish to Heaven I had never touched 
this business. But, now to proceed. The suspicions I 
had two months ago led me to place a detective belong- 
ing to my own staff on your premises.” 

“ Yes,” said Nance, “ you sent Jacob Short, our very 
excellent footman, down to the Heights. He was a good 
servant, and for my part, i seldom remembered that he 
was anything else. But I recall now your words at the 
time. You said the scent lay red round Rowton Heights. 
I did not understand you.” 

“Very likely not,” said Crossley. “Nevertheless, 
before I proceed any further, allow me to remind you, 


A RED TRACK. 


271 


madam, that I earnestly begged of you to give up the 
search.” 

“ And I refused to do so,” said Nancy. ** We need 
not revert to that again. I had vowed to go on with 
the thing — my vow was given to a dying man. I will go 
on with it to the bitter end.” 

“ Very well, madam, I have now to proceed with my 
story. Jacob Short went to Rowton Heights and did 
the work which I had expected him to do. The sus- 
picions which I entertained before he arrived there 
were abundantly confirmed by evidence which he was able 
to collect.” 

Nance came a step nearer. 

“ What do you mean ? ” she said. “ Do you infer,” 
she moistened her lips, they were so dry she could 
scarcely get out the wor ds — “ do you really infer 
that the murderer, the man who took the life of 
my young brother, was really an^ inmate of Rowton 
Heights ? ” 

The detective nodded. 

“ This is fearful ! Who could it be ? One of the ser- 
vants ? Surely not Vickers — not Hamley.” 

“You must have patience, madam ; you will know all 
in a few minutes.” 

Nance again grasped the back of the chair and stood 
firm. 

“ You remember,” continued Crossley, looking fixedly 
at her as he spoke, “ the evidence which I had in hand 
from the beginning. There was found near the body of 
the murdered man a torn piece of paper, which contained 
some writing in cipher ; at the bottom of the cipher was 


272 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


a hieroglyphic of peculiar shape and size. On the night 
of the murder, a friend of the murdered man saw a man 
escaping from the caf^ — a tall, dark, fine-looking man, 
with a peculiar mark on his upper lip. That man was 
searched for by the police, but he was not heard of again. 
On that evidence I had to work up my case. The most 
important part of the evidence was contained in the torn 
paper which held the cipher. 

“After long toil and weeks of labour I became 
acquainted with the key of the cipher, and was able to 
read what was written on the torn bit of paper. It was 
incriminating to the last degree, showing that the murder 
was premeditated, for it was an appointment to meet 
your brother at the caf^ where he lost his life. From 
that day to now my object, madam, has been to find the 
man who used that cipher and that hieroglyphic. I 
obtained a certain clue which made me think it probable 
that I should find him in your house. Yes, Mrs. Row- 
ton, in your house. 

“ I sent Jacob there for the purpose of rendering my 
suspicions certainties. He worked well, his object being 
to find the cipher and hieroglyphic, which had already 
been used on the piece of paper found close to the 
murdered man in the possession of the suspected 
party. For this purpose he made friends with 
a woman who kept a small post-office in the village 
near your home. He also left not a stone un- 
turned to make investigations at the Heights itself. 
Yesterday morning, madam, a man living on your 
premises wrote a letter to town in the same cipher 
and signed it with the same hieroglyphic which was 


A RED TRACK. 


273 


used when your brother was murdered more than six 
years ago. 

“ This is terrible ! it excites me beyond measure. 
Go on ; tell me the rest quickly ” 

“Jacob Short sent me full particulars,” continued 
Crossley, “ and acting on them I went to see a woman 
last night whose husband belongs to a celebrated gang or 
school of burglars, known to us police as the Silver School. 
The man has not long ago been arrested on a charge of 
uttering a forged cheque. I thought it possible that 
the wife might know something about the man who 
wrote the cipher and who lived at Rowton Heights. I 
went to her last night and taxed her with her knowledge, 
believing, as I will explain, that her husband and this 
man belonged to the same School. Under pressure, she 
told me what she knew. She described the man who 
used that cipher and who signed his name with that 
special hieroglyphic. She described him as I expected 
her to describe him, but she could not tell me his name, 
for that had always been hidden from her. I had a 
photograph in my possession, however, which I showed 
her, and she identified the photograph with the man. 
There is no doubt that this man and the woman's 
husband had been employed in the same nefarious 
work.” 

“ You absolutely bewilder me,” said Nance. “Then 
this ruffian has not only taken human life, but he is also 
a burglar. And you tell me calmly to my face that this 
fiend has lived in the house with my husband and my- 
self. Have you arrested him, Mr. Crossley ? ” 

Nancy Rowton’s eyes became full of fire— a passion 

i8 


274 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


of absolute revenge gave to her face a totally foreign 
appearance. 

“ Have you arrested the scoundrel ? ” she repeated. 

“ I cannot arrest him at present,” answered Crossley. 
“To complete my evidence there is one last link 
wanting. The man who murdered your young brother 
not only used the cipher which I have discovered and 
the hieroglyphic, but he wore on his face a peculiar mark, 
a mark so uncommon and so impossible to hide that by 
that alone he might be identified at any time. My man. 
Short, found the cipher and the hieroglyphic, but it was, 
as he said, completely outside his province to discover 
the mark. When we find the man with the mark on his 
upper lip, we have found, beyond doubt, the murderer 
of your brother. I regret to say, madam, that no one 
can give us that last evidence but yourself.” 

“ I ? ” said Nance. “ Impossible ! You cannot know 
what you are saying. I ? ” 

“Yes, Mrs. Rowton, that is your painful duty — that 
is, if you still wish me to go on with the search.” 

“ Of course I wish you to go on with it. My heart 
is on fire — my noble young brother — my father’s life 
sacrificed. Go on with the search ? Yes, yes, I say to 
the bitter end. I would see that man on the gallows if 
I could. I have taken a vow in this matter.” 

“ There are some vows which are bad,” said the 
detective; “some vows are better broken than kept. 
I speak against my own calling when I remind you of 
that, Mrs. Rowton. I am interested in this case. It 
16 ^ I admit, a very terrible one. Madam, you must 
prepare for a blow. It belongs to my calling to know 


A RED TRACK. 


275 


something of human nature. I think I read you 
right I think I am not mistaken. You love your 
husband ? 

“ Love him,” said Nance. Her face, which had 
looked fierce and unwomanly, underwent an instant 
change. “You have no right to ask me that question,” 
she continued. “Nevertheless,” she added, raising her 
voice and speaking with sudden and unlooked for 
strength, “ I will answer it Yes, I love my husband. 
There are no words in any language to express my un- 
alterable love.” 

She no longer leant against the chair — she stood 
upright her hands hung at her sides, her head was flung 
back. There was not the faintest suspicion in her voice, 
in her face, of the awful news which the detective was 
trying to break to her. He was silent for nearly a 
minute, puzzled how to proceed. She herself helped 
him at last. 

“ I cannot understand,” she said, “ why it is left to 
me to make the final and last discovery. If you have 
done all else, why not complete it ? The man who 
possesses the cipher and who has used it, who possesses 
the hieroglyphic and who has used it, must be the man 
who also possesses the mark. Find the mark for your- 
self, Mr. Crossley.” 

“ The mark, Mrs. Rowton, is on the face — on the 
upper lip. It is small, but distinct. It alters the com- 
plete character of the mouth, being a death’s head and 
arrow tattooed on the lip. How done and for what 
purpose I cannot tell you. Now, the man whom we 
suspect has covered that mark by means of a moustache, 

i8* 


276 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


My servant would have completed the task himself, but 
he found it difficult — impossible.” 

“ A man who lives at Rowton Heights with a mous- 
tache,” said Nance, laughing somewhat unsteadily. 
“You must surely be mistaken, for I know everyone in 
my own house. The servants, of course, do not wear 
hair on their faces. In fact, no one wears a moustache 
except my husband.” She stopped, and looked with 
dilated eyes at the detective. 

“That is true, Mrs, Rowton. No one wears a 
moustache but your husband, Adrian Rowton.” 

“What can you mean? You look at me in a very 
queer way. What is your meaning ? Speak.” 

“ I mean this, Mrs. Rowton. I have discovered this : 
your husband, Adrian Rowton, is also known as Silver, 
the leader of the Silver Mob or School. This man, 
madam, is the one who murdered Anthony Follett many 
years ago ! ” 

There was a silence in the room which might almost 
be felt when Crossley ceased speaking. Nancy’s voice 
broke into it after a moment. She laughed — her laugh 
was wild and a little unsteady. 

“ My husband ! ” she said. “ How dare you say that 
tp my face ? Do you think for one moment I believe 
you?” 

“ I knew it would be a blow to you, madam.” 

“ It is no blow ; you are absolutely mistaken. 
Anything else might have been a blow, but not 
that. My husband kill my young brother ! My 
husband take a man’s life ! Oh ! come — this is too 
much.” 



“ This man, Madam, 
years ago ! ” 


is the one who murdered Anthony Follett many 

— Page 2/6. 




“IF NOT, LIE TO HIM.' 


277 


“Satisfy yourself, then, Mrs. Rowton. Discover if 
his lip is smooth. Find out if he wears the mark.^’ 

“ I will find out. I thank you. You thought to have 
terrified and crushed me, but you only excite my anger 
and my contempt. My husband! I myself rather 
than he.” 

She turned to the door as she spoke, opened it, and 
walked out with a steady step. Crossley followed her 
into the hall. It had never occurred to him that she 
would take his tidings with utter disbelief. 

“Lady Georgina,” said Nancy, opening the door of 
the little drawing-room, “ my business with this gentle- 
man is now concluded, and I am ready to go away.” 

Lady Georgina jumped up. She did not know Mrs. 
Rowton’s voice with the new quality in it. The ring of 
defiance, the vibration of strength and courage, were 
altogether a revelation to her. The carriage was waiting 
at the door. The ladies drove to the Universal Hotel. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

“if not, lie to him.“ 

When Long John arrived at the club in the street off 
the Chelsea Embankment he found several members 
of the School waiting to receive him. They were all 
assembled in a large room on the first floor of the 
house. As usual, they were smoking, and as the chief 
entered the dense smell of reeking tobacco filled the 
air. Scrivener was amongst the men present. He 
looked pale and excited. The other members of the 
School wore their habitual expressions, some of surly 


278 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


indifference, some of bravado, not a few of ill-concealed 
fear. For some reason there was a shadow in the 
air, and the men felt it without knowing that they did 
so. Scrivener was seated close to the fire smoking 
very strong tobacco when Long John appeared on the 
scene. 

“You have come; you are welcome,” said Scrivener, 
starting up and going a few steps forward to meet his 
chief. 

“Yes,” replied Long John in a voice of irritation, 
“ of course I’ve come. There is not much time to lose,” 
he added ; “ the night is already late, and it does not 
do to arouse suspicion by keeping this sort of place 
open too long. Let us to business at once. You 
managed the kidnapping of the child very well. 
Scrivener.” 

“ What child ? ” asked Simpkins in an eager voice. 

Simpkins, as the proprietor of the club, was always 
treated with a certain amount of respect, but on this 
occasion Long John favoured him with a scowling 
glance. 

“You’ll know all if you’ll keep quiet,” he said. “A 
child has been kidnapped by my orders — that child 
from this moment belongs to our School; we bring 
him up in our ways, to do our business, perhaps to 
lead us in his turn. He is the nephew of your gen- 
tleman leader, my men. He is Adrian Rowton’s 
nephew.” 

“ Silver’s nephew ! Good Heaven ! ” cried Simpkins. 
He bit his lips and looked across to one of his neigh- 
bours with a glance which was half scared, half appalled. 


“ IF NOT, LIE TO HIM.' 


279 


“ I thought,” he said after a pause, ** that matter was 
settled. It was proposed in this room that the child 
should be brought to us, but Rowton objected. It was 
arranged, was it not, that if Rowton did what we wanted, 
the child was to be let alone ? ” 

“ I was in my right when I kidnapped the boy,” said 
Piper in that snappy voice which always characterised 
him when his temper was getting the upper hand. 
“Now, Scrivener, to business; you took the child. 
Where is he ? ” 

“ I have him, sir.” 

“Where?” 

“ In a room just above the shop in Cheapside.” 

“ Ah ! that was a good thought. Is the lad safe ? 
Any chance of his escaping ? ” 

“None whatever,” answered Scrivener. “I need not 
go into particulars,” he added, “but the boy is safe 
enough ; he won’t escape.” 

“ That’s right ; you can keep him for the present. I 
shall want him by-and-by. What sort of lad is he ? ” 

“ I told you already. Long John, that he is about the 
pluckiest youngster I ever came across. To be honest, 
now,” continued Scrivener, “ I didn’t like the job of 
taking that little game chap away a bit, and I hope — 
yes, I do — that he’ll soon have his liberty. I don’t hold 
with bringing up boys to our trade, that I don’t.” 

“Nor do I,” said Simpkins. “It’s hard,” he 

added, “and it don’t seem a bit fair to a straightforward 
fellow like Silver.” 

“ Silence ! ” said Piper. “ Simpkins, when I want 
your opinion I’ll ask for it. The boy is not to have 


280 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


his liberty. I shall probably send him to America by- 
and-by.” 

** To America ! ” cried Scrivener. 

‘*Yes, why not? Am I your head, or am I not, 
men ? ” 

“Of course you’re our head, Long John,” said a surly 
bulldog-looking man who stood near. 

“Well, then, am I to direct proceedings, or am I 
not?” 

“ You are, you are. Piper,” said several. 

“Let me hear no more grumbling, then. I propose 
to send the kid to America before long. The members 
of our School there will receive him with effusion, and 
the puppy can be brought up from tender years to walk 
in the way in which he should go. There’s only one 
thing now to be said, and it is this ; that boy never 
returns to Rowton Heights. Should any member of 
this club be base enough to reveal his whereabouts, or 
even give the slightest hint to Adrian Rowton, he gets 
the black mark.” 

There was no need to explain what the black mark 
meant : the men all looked lowering and discontented. 

“ I have had a letter and a telegram from Rowton,” 
said Long John ; “ both need attention. The man is in 
a high slate of insurrection, and must be dealt with in a 
very summary manner. He is likely to come here at 
any moment.” 

“ That is true,” said Scrivener. “ I know for a fact,” 
he added, “ that Rowton is in town. He will, of course, 
demand the boy. What is your object, Piper, in keeping 
the lad from him ? ” 


“IF NOT, LIE TO HIM.' 


281 


Piper, otherwise Long John, did not reply for a minute. 
He stood up looking gloomy and depressed. Then he 
said, abruptly : 

“ I refuse to disclose all my plans, but enough can 
be said to explain my reasons for the very strong move 
which I have just taken. Rowton is the gentleman 
leader of this School, but I, my men, am the real boss ; 
but for me, where would any of you be now ? ** 

“ True for you, guv’nor,” said a couple of voices. 

“ I am the boss of this School. Two leaders cannot 
exist at the same time — one must fall. Rowton has 
defied me too long. All our plans will go to pieces, the 
police will get an inkling of our whereabouts, clues will 
be furnished to them, the scheme which we have formed 
to undermine society for our own best interest will fail, 
if there is a division in the camp. In short, the School 
will come to absolute and open grief. Rowton has 
defied me. I got the boy into my power because I 
intend to show Rowton who is master.” 

“ That’s fair enough,” said one or two again. 

“’Tain’t fair to my way of thinking,” said Simpkins 
suddenly. “There ain’t one of us like Silver. No 
one has done us the good turns Silver has done, 
and he’s straight. I’d trust him— I’d trust him to the 
death.” 

“Silence !” said Long John. 

There was a heavy oak chair at one end of the room. 
Piper now approached it, seated himself, and looked 
down the long room. His face was even thinner and 
more cadaverous than usual, his eyes more luminous, 
his lips firmer and more cruel Scrivener watched him 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


in silence ; then he went up the room and asked him a 
question. 

‘*What do you want done,” he said, “ with the plate 
and jewels which we have just taken from Rowton 
Heights ? ” 

“ They belong to Silver, and he must have them back 
again,” answered Long John with a weary sigh. “That 
plant on public credulity was the finest stroke of business 
we have done for a long time. We crown all when we 
not only punish and completely gull the public, but also 
take the desire of his eyes from Rowton.” 

“ Aye, but that, to my way of thinking, was the step 
too far,” muttered Scrivener under his breath. 

“ What are you saying. Scrivener ? Speak out I I 
allow no mutterings here.” 

“ I am saying this,” answered Scrivener ; “ we put our- 
selves into danger when we aroused the indignation of a 
man like Rowton. You may push your authority too 
far. Long John. I have spoken, now; I won’t say another 
word.” 

“You had better not. Now about the plate and 
jewels. You can keep them at your place in Cheapside, 
Scrivener, for a bit, can’t you ? ” 

“ I can. Piper, but to be frank with you, I don’t want 
them to remain there. They might implicate me.” 

“Not a bit of it. The best plan would be to convert 
them into money, which you can easily do. You have 
crucibles, and can melt down the plate. The jewels can 
be taken from their settings, and one of our men can go 
over to Holland with a part of them in the course of the 
next fortnight. Rowton would as lief have a good large 


“IF NOT, LIE TO HIM. 


283 


sum of money as the goods back again. In fact, he 
cannot have them back ; it might arouse suspicion.” 

“ How about this ? ” said Scrivener after a pause. 
“You think yourselves safe enough,” he added, looking 
at the chief, his ugly small eyes flashing, “ but I said we 
did wrong to get to the black side of a man like Rowton. 
How about this ? ” He put his hand into his breast 
pocket, drew out a small morocco case, and touched a 
spring. The case flew open, and the black diamond was 
revealed to view. 

Long John was a man not easily moved ; his outward 
calm seldom or never deserted him. He took the 
diamond from its case, looked at it, and put it back 
again. 

“That black diamond,” he said, “was, by my orders, 
to be sold by Rowton in Spain. He came here and told 
a dastardly lie about it. Did I not say that fighting- 
cock, that bravado, wanted humiliating, crushing, defying? 
He said he had received fifteen hundred pounds for the 
gem ; five hundred, as I told him at the time, too little. 
He gave me the money in your presence, mates.” 

“ He did that,” said a man who stood near. “ I don’t 
know what all this row is about,” he continued, “ we 
never had a straighter fellow among us than Silver.” 

“ Hush, there ! When I want your opinion I’ll ask for 
it. Now, Scrivener, speak. How did you come by this 
diamond ? ” 

♦ “ There’s treachery in the matter,” said Scrivener. 

“ Well, man, speak up, out with it.” 

“ It is this,” said Scrivener ; “ Silver has played us a 
scurvy trick. Instead of selling the gem and putting it 


281 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


out of the power of the police to trace it to us, he kept 
it and gave it to his wife. Mrs. Rowton wore the black 
diamond in her hair on the night of the ball at Rowton 
Heights.” 

“ You swear this as a fact ? ” said Long John. 

“ My proof, sir, is that I have the diamond,” said 
Scrivener. “ A girl of the name of Hester Winsome, 
whom I heavily bribed while staying at Pitstow, managed 
to secure it for me. She took it out of her mistress’s 
wardrobe after the lady had retired for the night. And 
here it is, sir.” Scrivener pointed to the gem as he 
spoke. 

‘‘Yes, the proof is convincing,” said Long John. 

A growl came from one or two throats near. Long 
John took up the diamond, looked at it again, and then 
replaced it on the table. 

At that moment there came a knock at the door. 

“Silver’s knock,” said Scrivener; “you won’t betray 
me. Piper ? ” 

“ You dog ! Get along and let me alone,” said Piper. 
“ Open the door, someone.” 

Simpkins went down the room and threw the door 
open. 

“ Welcome, Silver,” he said in a voice which slightly 
shook. 

Rowton nodded to him and entered. Without look- 
ing to right or left he came straight up the room. It 
was not his way to be ungracious, and the men resented 
what they termed his haughty bearing. 

“You received my letter ?” he said in a curt voice, 
looking full at Long John. 


“IF NOT, LIE TO HIM.' 


285 


“I did, my fine fellow. You crow loud and fierce, 
my fighting cock. How dare you address your boss in 
that tone ? ” 

“ What I dare to do is my own affair,” answered Row- 
ton. “Your part of the business is this; you keep your 
faith with me ; if you break it. I’ll stick to my word. 
Unless the boy is given back to me in two hours, 1 
break with the Silver School.” 

“There are two words to that,” said Long John; 
“ and as to my breaking faith with you, wait a while — we 
may equalise the balance. Give me that case here. 
Scrivener. Ha ! what do you say to this, Rowton ? 
How did this come into your possession ? ” 

“ That is the black diamond,” said Rowton in a cool 
voice. “ I bought it for my wife. I forgot that it was 
stolen with the other things.” 

He took up the gem as he spoke, looked at it with 
a peculiar expression, and then laid it back on the 
table. 

“ My wife wore it the night of the ball,” he said. 

His tone was thoughtful. For a moment he ceased 
to see the scene which surrounded him ; a fair vision 
rose before his mental eyes — he felt clinging arms round 
his neck. The next, the vision had faded and the black 
present was alone with him. He started from his reverie 
and spoke abruptly. 

“ That robbery was very well planned. Piper,” he said. 
“ I must congratulate you on the whole way the thing 
was executed. But for the one step too far — but for the 
kidnapping of my lad — I could admire the pluck and 
courage of my confederates.” He looked round the 


286 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


room at the men, whose eyes glowed with delight at his 
words of praise. 

“ Hold your tongue and listen,” said Long John, inter- 
larding his words with a terrific oath. “ How did that 
diamond get into your possession ? ” 

“ I bought it, answered Rowton. “ I gave you fifteen 
hundred pounds for it.” 

“ Then, do you know what you have done ? By this 
act alone you have sold us. There are ugly stories 
known to the police in connection with this black 
diamond. I could lay my hands at the present moment 
on three men in this room whom this precious gem of 
infernal night might bring to the gallows.” 

“Hush, for Heaven’s sake!” said Scrivener, “walls 
have ears.” 

“There are moments when one must speak out, 
danger or not,” said Long John. “The fact is plainly 
this. By your action, Rowton, you have imperilled us 
all. You broke faith with us when you appropriated this 
diamond for your own purposes. It is a lucky chance 
which brings it again into our possession. Understand, 
now, that this matter makes us quits, and that you have 
nothing whatever to do with the child.” 

“ Then my letter to you holds good,” said Rowton. 
“ My men, I must wish you good evening.” 

He took up his hat, walked down the length of the 
room, opened the door, and went out. 

“Follow him,” said Long John, nodding to Simpkins 
as he spDke. 

Without a word Simpkins also left the room. 

When the two men had departed, and the sound of 


•*IF NOT, LIE TO HIM.’ 


287 


their footsteps going downstairs had completely died 
away, Long John seated himself once more in the old 
oak chair. He remained gloomy and silent for a 
moment. Then his voice sounded full and sonorous. 

“ Come up near me, all of you,” he said ; “ we have an 
important matter to discuss.” 

All the men flocked, without a word, to the upper end 
of the room. Scrivener stood exactly in front of Long 
John. Long John’s eyes, pathetic to almost unbearable 
sadness, gazed full into the shifty eyes of his spy, his lips 
became thin as a line, his face showed white and 
cadaverous, even more deathly in hue than usual. On 
each cheek there came out slowly an angry spot of flame 
about the size of a halfpenny ; the eyes grew brighter as 
the spot deepened. The lips were now so thin that they 
looked like a mere thread. They men all waited in 
perfect silence. They knew this mood of their leader, 
and trembled before it. 

“ There is only one thing to be done,” said Long 
John ; “ I name it with regret, but it must be done.” 

“ What is that ? ” asked Scrivener. 

“We have had too much to do with our gentleman 
leader — he has defied us and put us in peril. Men, if 
we do not wish, each one of us, to taste the sweets of 
penal servitude, if three or four of us do not wish to 
swing by the neck until they die, Rowton must go.” 

“ He must go, it is true,” echoed Scrivener.. 

“ It don’t seem to me as if that verdict was fair,” said 
a man on the outer edge of the circle. 

Long John fixed him with his glittering eyes. 

“ What do you mean, Danvers ? ” he said. 


288 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ What I say,” replied the man, getting a little bolder. 
“ Silver may have been wrong about that diamond, but 
after all, when all’s said and done, he give it to his wife, 
and, except for the black diamond, we never did have a 
straighter feller to work with.” 

“ If the black diamond is found by the police,” con- 
tinued Long John, “we are all undone. The police 
have information with regard to it which will hang three 
men. Must three hang for one ? I repeat that Adrian 
Rowton must go.” 

All the men were silent now. One or two looked 
eager and impressed, one or two alarmed. Long John, 
after a silence which might almost be felt, spoke again. 

“ If we don’t give him away, he gives us away.” 

“ No,” said the man called Danvers, “ ’tain’t in Silver 
to give evidence agin his pals.” 

“We have him in a cleft stick,” continued Long John. 
“ Seeing himself at our mercy he will turn round and 
defy us. Has he not done so already? To-night, in 
your presence, mates, he named impossible conditions ; 
when they were not acceded to, he went away with 
threatening words on his lips. He has done us harm, 
and, I repeat again, he must go. A diamond, well 
known to the police, has been found in his establish- 
ment. His wife has worn it. It is, doubtless, even 
now written in their records as part of the stolen goods 
from Rowton Heights. I repeat once again, the man 
must go. Do not let us discuss the fact of his going. 
A word or two as to the means and this meeting may 
break up.” 

Just then there came a timid knock at the door. 


“IF NOT, LIE TO HIM; 


269 


Scrivener went on tiptoe to open it. The servant girl 
who brought it stood without. She handed a little 
twisted note. 

Scrivener took it to Long John. He opened it, read 
the contents, and thrust it into his pocket. 

I have grave information here,” he said. Spider 
is in town, and has been acting the spy for us as usual. 
We have no time to lose, mates. The police have 
already got wind of Silver^s identity. Spider has 
informed me in this note^ that they identify him with 
Adrian Rowton, master of Rowton Heights. Before 
twenty-four hours are over he will be arrested. Now, 
look here, we arrest him first. You understand, don’t 
you?” 

“ Yes,” answered several voices. They were all eager 
now. Their apathy had vanished. 

“ We have a wine party here to-morrow night,” said 
Long John, rising as he spoke “ Scrivener, it will be 
your duty to bring Silver here as guest. Use fair means 
to get him to come, if necessary; if not, lie to him. 
Good- night, men. We meet to-morrow evening at 
nine.” 


19 


290 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A TOAST. 

Absorbed in his own disturbed thoughts, Rowton never 
knew that he was followed. Simpkins saw him enter the 
little hotel off the Strand which has been mentioned in 
an earlier part of this story. 

At an early hour on the following morning, as Rowton 
was having breakfast in the coffee room. Scrivener was 
announced. The landlord brought in the information. 

“There’s a man of the name of Dawson outside,” he 
said to Rowton, “ he’ll be glad to speak to you for a 
minute.” 

“ Show him in,” said Rowton, nodding. 

The next moment Scrivener stood before him. 

“ Ah, Dawson,” said Rowton, taking his cue imme- 
diately, “ what may your business be ? ” 

“ Nothing much,” replied Scrivener. “I have come 
here with a message from the club.” 

“ Well, sit down and have a cup of coffee. I’ll walk 
out with you presently.” 

Scrivener, otherwise Dawson, complied. The two men 
drank coffee together. Then Rowton rose from his seat. 

“ We can take a turn on the Embankment,” he said. 

A moment later the men were seen walking side by 
side on the Thames Embankment. The morning was 
a fine one, and a fresh breeze from the river blew on 
their faces. A man with a smooth face and a perfectly 


A TOAST. 


291 


innocent expression passed them slowly. He looked 
full at Rowton, who nodded to him. 

“That is my servant, Jacob,” he said, turning to 
Scrivener. “ What is he doing here ? ” 

“ Mischief,” muttered Scrivener. “ We had best not 
be seen in such an open place as this. Let us turn up 
this by-street into the Strand.” 

The men did so. From the Strand they passed into 
a narrow court. In the court was a public-house. 
They entered it, asked for a private room, and sat 
down by the fire. Scrivener took out his pipe and 
lighted it, but Rowton did not smoke. 

“Nov,” said Rowton, “your business, and quickly.” 

“ The boss is sorry you parted from him in anger,” 
said Scrivener. “There’s a wine party at our club 
to-night, and 1 was to bring you a special invitation. 
Long John has sent it to you himself. Matters may 
be smoothed over. Long John naturally does not want 
to get into your black books. Will you come, or will 
you not ? That is the question. 

“When I left the club yesterday evening,” said 
Rowton, “ I said I would never darken its doors again.” 

“That is likely enough. I don’t wonder you took 
some of the words the chief said rather hard ; but if 
matters are spliced up between us, you won’t forsake 
your own School, will you, mate ? ” 

“ If the boy is given back to me I’ll not forsake the 
School,” said Rowton after a pause. 

“ I believe that will be done,” said Scrivener. “ Any- 
how you are bidden to come to-night to talk over the 
matter.” 


*9 


292 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“ Are you square with me ? ’’ asked Rowton, looking 
full into Scrivener’s face. 

“ As square as daylight,” replied the man. 

Rowton turned away with a suppressed sigh. 

“ I’ll be there,” he said ; “ not that 1 believe matters 
will be smoothed over. This will doubtless be' my last 
visit.” 

“ No, mate,” answered Scrivener, “ we cannot do with- 
out a jolly dog like you.” 

“ I’ll be there ; that is enough,” answered Rowton. 

“One last word before I go, mate,” said Scrivener. 
“ You had best keep dark to-day. The police have got 
wind of your identity and are after you.” 

“ How do you know ? ” asked Rowton. 

“Long John had a warning last night. Spider is in 
town, and is prying round as usual. It is true, I tell 
you. You may thank your stars that you have not been 
arrested before this. It is all the doings of that footman 
of yours.” 

“ My footman ! Do you mean Jacob Short ? ” 

“ I mean Jacob Short. He is a spy from Scotland 
Yard. Now you know enough, and I dare not breathe 
another word.” 

Scrivener went away, but Rowton sat on by the fire 
in the back room of the public-house. His thoughts 
and sensations were known to himself alone. After a 
time he got up, paid for the use of the room, and by a 
circuitous route got back again to the hotel in the Strand. 
As he was going in he came face to face with Jacob 
standing near the door of the hotel. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” asked Rowton. 


A TOAST. 


293 


“ I came up for a holiday, sir. I hope to return to my 
duties to-morrow night ” 

“ See you do. I don’t wish my servants to come to 
town without my special permission.” 

Rowton spoke in his chuffiest and most forbidding 
tones. Jacob’s face flushed. Rowton ran quickly up- 
stairs to his room. It was at the top of the house. On 
the landing outside a ladder . was placed which com- 
municated with a skylight. Rowton packed a few 
things in a black bag, and a moment afterwards, had 
anyone looked, might have been seen crossing the 
leads of the house to another at some distance off. 
Jacob did not catch sight of Rowton again that day, 
although he kicked his heels for a long time at the 
door of the hotel. 

Punctually at the appointed hour the men met at 
the smoking club in Chelsea. Their full number was 
present. Long John looked at his best. At such 
moments he could be delightful. He was gracious 
now, unbending; there was not a shadow of care on 
his brow; his great eyes glowed with the softest and 
sweetest expression, his lips unbent in genial smiles. 
There are times when even men of the Silver School can 
relax, and, to all appearance, forget their cares. The 
present seemed to be one. 

‘‘Welcome back,” said Long John to Rowton. He 
went down the room to meet his guest, shaking hands 
with him warmly. 

“You know the condition on which I have come,” 
answered Rowton. 

“Yes,” replied Long John, “but we won’t discuss 


294 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


unpleasantnesses until after supper. Now, men, let us 
gather round and enjoy ourselves.” 

The men sat round a table and began to smoke and 
drink. The wine was of the best. Under its influence 
they all soon became convivial and merry. Even 
Rowton lost his sense of depression ; he filled his glass 
several times. Soon toasts of different kinds were 
proposed. The men talked in metaphor, and slang 
terms were freely used, 

“To the success of our next meeting,” said Long 
John, rising from his seat, and raising a glassful of wine 
high into the air drained it off at a bumper. 

“To a short life and a merry one,” said Rowton, 
rising also in his turn. 

“To the sale of the black diamond,” cried Scrivener. 

Scrivener was seated next to Rowton. At this 
moment Long John gave him an almost imperceptible 
signal. Taking up a wine bottle which stood near he 
filled Rowton’s glass to the brim. 

“To the sale of the black diamond,” he repeated. 

All the men, in a spirit of high bravado, drained off 
their glasses. A moment later they sat down. Other 
toasts followed. The party grew wilder and more 
merry. Each man capped his neighbour’s story. The 
room was clouded with smoke, and echoed from end 
to end with the sound of boisterous mirth. Suddenly, 
in the midst of a very wild and daring tale, Rowton 
staggered to his feet. He made a step or two forward 
in the chiefs direction. 

“ You scoundrel, you have poisoned me ! ” he cried. 


WAGEa 


295 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

WAGES. 

The moment Rowton spoke Long John rapped his 
hand loudly on the board. He rose and spoke in a 
clear and penetrating voice. 

“ Silence, men,” he said, “ I have something to say.” 

Every tongue was instantly arrested. 

“ I wish to state a fact,” continued Long John, just 
glancing for a moment at Rowton, who, white to his lips, 
was standing near. “Our gentleman leader, Adrian 
Rowton, of Rowton Heights, in Yorkshire, otherwise 
known to this school by the name of Silver, has been in 
debt to us to the tune of five hundred pounds. The 
debt was contracted on behalf of a certain diamond, 
which we all know here as the black diamond. The 
diamond was of great worth, and from different circum- 
stances in connection with its coming into our posses- 
sion, its presence in the School was fraught with extreme 
danger. Silver was commissioned to take it to Spain 
and sell it there for two thousand pounds, a sum, as you 
know, very much below its intrinsic value. Silver did 
sell the diamond, but, as it turns out, he sold it to him- 
self for five hundred pounds below the price I set upon 
it. In this manner he contracted a debt t9 our School 
of five hundred pounds. By securing the diamond for 
himself he contracted a further debt, the dimensions of 


296 


A SON OP ISHMAEL. 


which cannot be measured. This further debt formed 
the subject of our very painful discussion last . night. 
The first debt was of small importance ; the second debt 
was vital. There was only one way in which Rowton 
could pay the second debt. I wish to tell you all, now, 
my men, that Adrian Rowton has cleared the debt. 
His record with us is white.” 

“ Hold a minute,” said Rowton. His voice was loud 
but somewhat shaky. He was staggering with mortal 
pain. “All here present have acted towards me with 
treachery. There’s not a man in this room who did 
not know what Long John wanted me here for. You, 
Scrivener, lured me to this place by means of a lie. 
When I came here I trusted to your honour, mates. 
You have every one of you failed me.” 

Some of the men groaned, lowered their eyes, and 
some shuffled restlessly with their feet. Long John 
tapped again on the table. 

“ The old trite proverb that ‘ all is fair in love and 
war’ applies here,” he said. “There was only one 
way to wipe out Rowton’s debt, and that way has been 
used.” 

“A word more,” continued Rowton; “my debt will 
be wiped out soon, but there is another debt to cancel. 
Long John, you kidnapped the boy. If my record is 
white, yours is black. I forgive the rest of you fellows 
— you did what you did under compulsion. But as to 
you, you coward, I swear that if I appear before my 
Maker unabsolved and with my sins upon me, so do 
you.” 

Quick as thought Rowton produced a revolver and 


WAGES. 


297 


fired. He aimed at Long John’s heart. The man saw 
his danger, swerved an inch, and received the bullet in 
his right arm. 

All was immediately confusion and alarm. Rowton, 
after firing, fell to the ground in strong convulsions. 
Long John, white as a sheet, caught up a napkin to stay 
the blood which began to pour from his wounded arm. 
Simpkins rushed to one of the windows to shut it, fear- 
ing that the police might have heard the sound of the 
shot. Long John’s face became more and more ghastly 
— a smile kept coming and going on his thin lips. 
Simpkins ran ’ forward to help him. Scrivener and 
another man approached the heap on the floor which 
had represented the strong, athletic form of Rowton not 
ten minutes ago. 

“What are you trying to say, mate?” whispered 
Scrivener. 

“ Take me where I can be alone.” 

The two men tried to lift him in their arms. 

“Stay,” called Long John; “we can put cushions on 
the floor and lay him here. I am going. One word to 
you, Rowton, before we part ; we have not yet squared 
the record.” 

“We wait for that,” answered Rowton. He raised 
his glassy eyes and fixed them on Long John’s cada- 
verous face. 

Long John staggered to the door. The other men 
hurried to place cushions and coats in a corner on the 
floor. They laid the dying man on them. 

“ How long have I to live ? ” he asked. 

“ I do not know,” returned Scrivener, “ but I think 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


for two or three hours. We gave that poison before 
to ” 

“ Hush ! ” said Simpkins suddenly, clapping his hands 
across Scrivener’s mouth. 

“ I forgot myself in the excitement of the moment, 
answered Scrivener. “I wish I’d never done the 
ghastly deed — Rowton of all men! If it were not 
for Long John, and that he’d find a way to hurry 
one out of the world if one did not do his slightest 

wish, why ** Scrivener wiped the dew from his 

face. 

“Ours is a ghastly calling,” said Simpkins. There, 
mates,” he added, turning to where a group of the men 
were huddled together in a distant part of the room, 
“ you had best leave us. Long John is not killed, but 
he has got his deserts after a fashion, and he’ll have to 
lie dark for a bit. The rest of you go home, and be 
quick about it. When we want you again we’ll let you 
know.” 

The men still hesitated. At last one of them, 
treading on tiptoe, came to the upper end of the 
room. 

“ Shake hands, mate,” said this fellow, going on his 
knees and holding out his hand to Rowton. “ Say you 
forgive us before we go.” 

“I forgive you, mates,” answered Rowton; “you 
were only tools. There is one man whom I do not 
forgive, and that is your boss. He acted with treachery 
and you were not courageous enough to resist. Now 
go. I have only a short time to live and much to 


WAGES. 


299 


One by one the men came up, looked at his ashy face, 
shook their heads, and slowly left the room. 

When they had all gone Rowton spoke to Simpkihs. 

“ What did he give me ? ” he asked. 

With some hesitation Simpkins named a drug, bending 
low to do so. 

Rowton’s face could not grow more ghastly. 

“ Then it is certain death,” he said. 

“ Yes, cerUin death ; but, if you like, we’ll fetch a 
doctor.” 

“Never mind. Were enquiries set on foot, things 
would go badly with you. I die, I hope, as a man ’* 

He paused, struggling for breath. 

“ I always knew,” he continued, “ that the fate I have 
met might be mine. There is no hope, you say. I may 
live for — two hours.” 

“You may, mate, but it is not certain. You are 
taking the dose hard,” said Scrivener. 

“ I want you to do something for me, Scrivener.” 

“ Anything,” replied the man, falling on his knees. 

“ Fetch my wife here.” 

“ Your wife ! ” said Simpkins suddenly. “ Dare you 
see her, mate ? ” 

“ I dare anything. I have one last— desperate wish ; 
it must be granted. I must see my wife.” 

“But if she is in Yorkshire, Silver?” queried 
Scrivener. 

“I have a premonition that she is in London,” re- 
plied Rowton. His words came more and more slowly, 
with longer and longer gasps between. “Scrivener — 
you know Rowton Heights ? Wire there at once — get 


300 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


Mrs. Rowton^s address in London, and then fetch her 
here. You don’t object, do you ? If so, at any cost, 
I’ll get back to my hotel.” 

“ I’ll do what you wish,” said Scrivener, 

“It seems reasonable enough,” echoed Simpkins. 

“Of course, you’ll take an oath, pal,” continued 
Scrivener, “ that you’ll let out nothing.” 

The ghost of a smile played round Rowton’s white 
lips. 

“ Heaven knows I am a deeply-dyed scoundrel,” he 
said, “ but honour among thieves. You may bring Mrs. 
Rowton to this house without danger to the Silver 
School.” 

Scrivener left the room without another word, and 
Simpkins seated himself by the dying man. 

As Scrivener ran downstairs he could not help mutter- 
ing some words to himself. 

“Ours is a beastly calling; there’s no mercy in a 
school like ours. If it were anyone but Rowton I 
should not mind a brass button — but Rowton I ’Tain’t 
that he was soft ; ’tain’t that he was specially kind ; but 
he was straight^ although he belonged to us. We’ll go 
to pieces now without him. Long John made a huge 
mistake.” 

Scrivener sprang into a cab and drove to the nearest 
post-office. From there he wired to Rowton Heights, 
remaining in the office until the message bearing Mrs. 
Rowton’s address in town was sent to him. He then 
hailed another hansom and drove straight to the Uni- 
versal Hotel 

This was the night on which Nance had come to 


WAGES. 


301 


London and had received Crossley’s awful communica- 
tion. She had driven straight to the hotel with Lady 
Georgina, and when Scrivener was suddenly announced 
the two ladies were in a private sitting-room. From 
the moment she left Clapham Common Nance had 
talked incessantly. She had seemed to all appearances 
in the highest spirits. She had refused to disclose 
the faintest hint with regard to her interview with 
Crossley. Beyond telling Lady Georgina that see 
believed the man to be altogether mistaken about 
a certain business which he had undertaken for 
her, she turned her conversation resolutely from the 
subject. 

“ I feel in good spirits,’’ she said once or twice. “ I 
have the same feeling which possessed me the night of 
the ball at Rowton Heights. How long ago did the ball 
take place, Lady Georgina ? ” 

** Only two days ago, child,” was the reply. 

“It seems months back,” said Nance, pushing her 
hair from her flushed face. “ I told Adrian then that 
my excitement and high spirits were almost ‘ fey,’ as the 
saying is. I have the same feeling to-night. Never 
mind ; while I feel happy let me enjoy life. I believe 
that I shall soon hear news of the boy and also of my 
husband. Ah ! who is that ? ” 

At this moment Scrivener was announced. Nance, 
with the flush on her cheeks and the queer bright light 
in her eyes, went forward at once to meet him. She 
felt stimulated all over to an extraordinary degree. 
Crossley had spoken the most utter nonsense. His 
tidings had not given her the slightest pain. A shadow 


302 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


of doubt of the man she loved could not visit her loyal 
heart. 

“ I seem to know your face,” she said, looking into 
that of Scrivener with a puzzled expression. “ Ah, yes, 
I remember now. Surely I saw you once at Rowton 
Heights.” 

“ I saw you also, madam,” said the man. 

He bowed awkwardly. Then his eyes travelled to 
Lady Georgina, who, bold, upright, and firm, stood not 
far away.* 

** I have a message for you alone, Mrs. Rowton,” he 
said. 

“Please leave us. Lady Georgina,” said Nance. 

“I will not,” replied Lady Georgina. “You are left 
in my charge by your husband, Nance, and I prefer to 
remain with you whatever happens. Sir, I do not know 
what your business can be with this young lady, but I 
must ask you to say it before me.” 

“ Very well, madam,” replied the man. “We have 
not a moment to lose, Mrs. Rowton,” he continued; 
“ your husband has sent for you. I am commissioned 
to bring you to him immediately.” 

“To bring me to him !” said Nance, her eyes light- 
ing up with sudden tumultuous joy. “ I won’t keep 
you. But why can he not come to me ? ” 

“ He cannot, madam : he is very ilk” 

“ 111 1 ” said Nance. She started violently. Her face 
grew white. “ I won’t keep you a single moment,” she 
said. 

“ I’ll go with you, dear,” said Lady Georgina. 

“ I am sorry, madam,” said Scrivener, “ but on that 


WAGES. 


303 


point I am obliged to be firm, I cannot possibly take 
you with Mrs. Rowton. If she wishes to see her hus- 
band alive she must trust herself to me alone. I swear 
no harm will happen to her.'^ 

‘‘ If I wish to see my husband alive ? ” repeated 
Nance. “ Oh ! for Heaven^s sake, don’t put obstacles 
in the way now, Lady Georgina. I won’t keep you a 
moment,” she said, again turning to the man. 

She flew out of the room, returning in less than a 
minute in her hat and cloak. 

“ I am ready,” she said, “ let us come.” 

“ This is an awful situation,” exclaimed Lady Geor- 
gina. “ I promised to look after that child. How do I 
know, sir, that you are not deceiving me ? ” 

“ I swear on the Bible, madam, that I am not. Mr. 
Rowton has sent for his wife. He is very ill. If you 
refuse to let Mrs. Rowton come with me I must go 
away without her.” 

“ In that case, I have no alternative,” said Lady 
Georgina ; “ I only trust I am not doing wrong.” 

Nance and Scrivener left the room. A hansom was 
in waiting outside the hotel 

Nance entered and Scrivener immediately followed 
her. He gave directions in a low voice to the driver, 
and the cab started forward at a quick pace. Presently 
Scrivener put his hand through the little window in the 
roof. 

“A sovereign,” he called to the driver, ‘Gf you get 
us to our destination in a quarter of an hour from 
now.” 

The man whipped up his horse. 


304 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


“You said that my husband was very ill j is he in 
danger ? ” asked Nance. 

“ He is, madam, in extreme danger.” 

Nance did not ask another question. She locked her 
hands tightly under her cloak. Her face was death-like. 
She looked like one carved in stone. 

By-and-by the cab entered a squalid street leading 
off the Embankment. It turned to the left, then to the 
right, then to the left again, and finally drew up at a 
shabby-looking door. Scrivener jumped out. 

“ This way, Mrs. Rowton,” he said. 

He flung the sovereign to the driver, and then 
knocked in a peculiar way on the door. 

It was opened immediately by a shabbily-dressed girl, 
whose eyes were red from violent weeping. 

“ All right upstairs, Sophy ? ” asked Scrivener. 

“ Silver is still alive,” answered Sophy with a catch in 
her voice. 

“ Silver,” repeated Nance to herself in a low tone. 

It was at this awful moment of her life that a memory 
came back to her. She had forgotten it until now. 
Earlier in that same evening Crossley had told her that 
her husband, her brave husband, whom he presently 
accused of the most ghastly crime, was also known as 
Silver, the leader of a school or mob of burglars, called 
the Silver School. The information seemed to her so 
baseless and false, and was also so completely swallowed 
up in the grave and monstrous accusation which followed 
it, that until now it was completely blotted out of her 
memory. 

“Silver,” she said, looking with dilated eyes at 



“ When he heard her step Rowton raised himself with an effort.” 

—Page 305. 




WAGES. 


305 


Scrivener as they mounted the stairs. “Who is 
Silver ? ” 

“ Never mind about Silver now, madam ; I am taking 
you to see your husband, Mr. Rowton, of Rowton 
Heights.” 

Nance asked no more questions. The next moment 
they found themselves inside the club room. The 
greater part of the long room was in complete darkness, 
but at the farther end a paraffin lamp flared. Nance 
saw dimly as she entered the figure of a man lying on 
the floor. 

When he heard her step Rowton raised himself with 
an effort. 

“ My wife has come,” he said to Simpkins. “ Leave 
us. Go into another room.’' 


306 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN. 

Nance fell on her knees by the dying man. She took 
one of his cold hand in hers. 

“ Little woman,” said Rowton. Come close to me, 
Nance,” he continued in an almost inaudible whisper; 
“ hold my hand tighter — I cannot feel your clasp.” 

She put both her hands round it, fondling it close to 
her breast. 

“ Are we alone, Nancy ? ” 

“Yes, darling, quite alone.” 

“ That is — good. I have rhuch to say to you.” 

“ Darling, don’t talk if it gives you pain. I can guess 
your thoughts, I know you so well.” 

“Heavens! She knows me so well,” repeated the 
dying man. 

“ Has a doctor been sent for, Adrian ? ” 

“No use.” 

“But I thought you were strong, in good health. 
What is the meaning of this agony ? ” 

“ Heart,” he said in a whisper. “ I have — known — 
it long — disease of long standing — hopeless; never 
mind — no doctor can cure me. Listen — Nancy 
mine.” 

She bent down until her white face was almost on a 
level with his. 


THE DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN. 


307 


“Speak, dearest, beloved,” she said in her softest 
voice. “Your very lowest word will be heard by me. 
Everything you tell me I will do. I am all yours, 
remember, both in life and death.” 

“ There never was — such an angel,” he replied, and a 
faint, half-mocking, yet utterly sweet smile flitted across 
his face. 

“ Nancy, my strength is going. See you get the 
boy.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Listen, Nance. Simpkins knows where he is 
— so does — Scrivener. So, I fancy, does Sophy — the 
girl in this house. If — Simpkins and Scrivener 
fail you — turn to — Sophy. She was always fond of 
me — poor Sophy! If she — helps you — take her away 
with you afterwards — for in doing — what you want, 
she may bring her own — life — into danger. Go away 
yourself, too. Little woman — you’ll hear terrible 
things.” 

“I don’t care,” she replied. “What are terrible 
tidings to me if I don’t believe them ? ” 

Rowton smiled into her eyes. 

“ I would — I might always remain thy white knight,” 
he said. “ Black to everyone else — but white to thee. 
There 1 — it is too much to hope.” 

He panted, his breath failed him. Nance held 
some brandy to his lips. He presently closed his 
eyes. 

She sat down on the floor by his side, and slipped 
her arm under his neck, so that his head rested on her 
breast. 


308 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


He felt the warm beating of the loving heart and 
opened his eyes. 

“ Are you there ? ” he said. ** I can't see ; are you 
there?" 

“Yes," she replied. “Do you think I could leave 
you ? ” 

“ Never," he replied. “ My angel who believed in 
the angel in me. Nancy, I am the blackest scoundrel- 
on earth." 

“ No, no,” she then said with a sob. “ Don't revile 
yourself now. To one person you have always been 
white.” 

“As an angel, Nancy mine ? ” 

“As an angel,'' she replied. “You have been the 
one hero of my life — immaculate, strong, as you said 
yourself, my white knight.” 

The dying man moved restlessly. 

“Child,” he said, “you will hear things.” His 
voice grew lower and lower. “I have brought thee 
into the lowest scrape — into the depths. You will 
know hereafter what I have done for thee, Little 
Nancy.” 

“ I don't wish to know ; I will not listen. Whatever 
I hear, nothing will turn my love,” she replied. 

“ Is that indeed so ? Say — those words again.” 

“ Nothing in heaven above or hell beneath can change 
my unalterable love,” she repeated. 

“Fold my hands, Nance — together — so. Father in 
Heaven — if a weak woman can be so forgiving, wilt not 
Thou — even Thou — have mercy ? ” 

The last words were scarcely distinguishable. Nance 


THE DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN. 


309 


kept the folded hands together. A smile came suddenly 
on the white lips, a longer and slower breath than any 
of the others, then stillness. 

Half an hour afterwards Simpkins softly opened 
the door of the room and came on tiptoe to Nancy’s 
side. He saw at a glance that the chief was dead. 
Nance was kneeling by him, her face hidden against his 
breast. 

“ Come, madam ; I am dreadfully sorry, but you dare 
not stay here another moment,” said the man in a tone 
of great pity and sympathy. 

At the words she raised her head and gave him a 
bewildered glance. She rose to her feet, staggering 
slightly. 

“ I do not wish to leave here,” she said. “ I want to 
remain by my husband’s body.” 

“ Hurry, Simpkins, hurry ! ” said Scrivener’s voice at 
that moment in the doorway. 

“ You must not stay, madam. It is as much as our 
lives are worth. I must tell you something.” 

“Nothing against the dead,” said Nancy, speaking in 
a strong full tone ; “ I forbid you.” 

“ No, we won’t mention his name,” said Simpkins. 
“I honour you, madam, for your loyalty. But as 
matters have turned out, he might, poor fellow, have 
met a worse fate. I won’t say any more. Whatever 
his faults he died true to us. Mrs. Rowton, it has been 
our misfortune to get into the black books of the law, 
and even at this moment the house is surrounded by 
police.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 


310 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


‘*What I say. The police have got wind of oui 
whereabouts. They will burst into this room in a mo- 
ment or two. No they cannot touch the dead, but you 
must leave us, madam.” 

“Is your name Simpkins?” inquired Nance sud- 
denly. 

“Yes, madam.” 

“ Then I have a message for you from my husband. 
He said that you knew of the whereabouts of his 
nephew, Murray Cameron. His last injunction to me 
was to find the boy. I must find him. Will you help 
me?” 

“Yes,” said Scrivener, who came forward at that mo- 
ment. “ We’ll both help you, lady. We do not want 
the boy any more. Our School is broken up after to- 
night. Go at once, Mrs. Rowton. I know your hotel. 
Your husband’s nephew will join you there before the 
morning. Go now.” 

A sudden noise was heard downstairs — the trampling 
of feet. 

“ Heavens ! we are lost,” cried Scrivener. “ Go, 
madam ; they cannot touch your dead ; but if you do as 
he wishes, you will leave us now.” 

“Yes, I will go,” said Nance. “But one moment 
first.” 

She fell on her knees by the body of her husband, 
and bending down printed a long kiss on the cold lips. 
In doing so she noticed that the lips themselves were 
smooth and undisfigured. There was no mark. 

Scrivener was true to his word, and early the follow- 


THE DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN. 311 

ing morning Murray Cameron was restored to his 
friends. Crossley, aided by Jacob Short, had given the 
alarm to the police, and the Silver School was broken up 
for ever. 

Nance returned for one night to Rowton Heights — it 
was just before she and Murray started to begin a new 
life in Australia — her object was to secure a certain 
box. 

“ I do not know what it contains,” she reflected, “ but 
if it means revenge, I would rather break my vow to the 
dead than use it now ! ” 

She packed it carefully, and, half way between Eng- 
land and the New World, dropped it into deep water. 
Thus its secret was never revealed. 

But afterwards a dying man in Paris made a strange 
confession. He declared to the priest who absolved 
him that for years he had belonged to a notorious gang 
of burglars in London, who went by the name of the 
Silver School. He himself was known by the sobriquet 
of Spider. Amongst the queer friendships of his life 
was one with the gentleman leader of that gang, a man 
called Silver. The likeness between the two was 

remarkable, and there was an occasion when, for 
purposes of his own, it came into Spider’s head to 
personate Silver. He did so in order to take the life 
of a young Englishman with whom he had quarrelled 
in a Parisian caf^. The Englishman had discovered 
one of his most important secrets, and Spider, with 
the ruthlessness of his class, resolved to silence him 
in the only effectual way. In order to divert sus- 
picion entirely from himself, he used a cipher and 


S12 


A SON OF ISHMAEL. 


hieroglyphic, the secret of which Rowton had once 
confided to him. 

‘‘On my lips,” said the dying man, “you will find the 
mark of a death’s head and arrows which was tattooed 
there years ago. You may use this confession after my 
death.” 


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